Treachery, Tears and Torture
by Keketra
Summary: If Peter had gone into the Witch's house to get Edmund... how would things have played out? T Rated for torture scenes though i may up or down that rating depending... Chapter Two Rewritten and Revised.
1. Prologue

**Treachery, Tears and Torture  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia...**

I am so tired. By Aslan, I'm so, so tired. How long have I been here, now? It seems like years, but it can't have been more than a couple of days at the most, surely? My entire body aches with pain, and although I long to sleep, I dare not.

She wouldn't be happy.

I still remember sealing my unhappy fate. Telling the Witch to take me in place of Edmund. I can remember everything... I can even remember how Edmund hardly glanced backwards as he left the castle, and I can remember how much that hurt. But I stayed in my decision. Even as she tied me to the chamber walls... no. I can't. I can't think about what was. I have to think about what is... I have to reserve my strength for whatever she may do next.

However much I try not to think of them, though, my thoughts still return to my siblings. Are they alright? Did they manage to reach Aslan? I guess I will never know. I have to trust Susan, trust her judgment and intelligence to pull them through. I have to trust Lucy's pure determination. I have to trust them. I have to believe...

She enters. The door closes, and darkness fills my mind.


	2. Fear

**Treachery, Tears and Torture**

**Disclaimer: I do not own "The Chronicles of Narnia". Everything therein belongs to the grand genius mind of CS Lewis. I would never have the time nor patience (nor, probably, the imagination) to come up with this brilliant and gorgeous world! I just borrow the characters for a while…**

**Warning: Rated T for now but some later chapters may be M rated due to violence and other punishment. Heavy psychological torture involved throughout. I will warn you before hand.**

**Author's Note: Chapters have been revised and edited for the same reasons - the story was flowing far too quickly for my liking before, and with some help I decided to slower the pace down.**

**Dedications: My thanks to Death's Executioner for her input and help with this chapter, you rock girl! **

**Chapter One**

_**Two days ago…**_

Every living creature on this earth fears something. Every one has one flaw, at least. Curse it be my luck that I have two, both of which can bring me to my knees, and both of which Jadis somehow managed to prise out of me.

The first was really quite simple - anyone who knew me at all would be able to guess at it, and I had always known that if something were to cause my downfall it would undoubtedly be my never-ending worry for my siblings. Yes, without wanting to sound over-heroic (for I admit I'm nothing of the sort), I would die for any one of them without hesitation, even Edmund, who - for some reason I could not divulge, seemed to loathe me with a fiery hatred. My second flaw was revealed in that third day of my miserable time with Jadis, which put her in an excellently vile mood and I in shock.

Perhaps to an outsider my fear might seem funny, laughable, something to be mocked at - I often wondered whether it was so as my brother oft seemed to find it as such, perhaps the most amusing characteristic I have. He and his friends came up with many ways to use it on me, and although I never spoke a word of it to our parents or siblings, it would leave me trembling for hours after. You see, I suffer from claustrophobia, painfully so. I hate any closed in space, and it especially hits when darkness is added to the mix. So when the painted Queen pushed me into the smallest iced room in her wretched castle with nothing but darkness as my companion, fear quickly followed.

I do not pretend to know anything of endurance, but I cannot pretend I did not hate myself as my heart began to race. I tried to calm my thoughts, but my terror only increased as I heard the jingle of chains and Jadis' voice in my ear. As the days grew longer, so did my endurance of the sickening horrors I was being forced into witnessing and partaking. I learned to separate body from mind as Jadis did her worst, still never leaving a physical mark on me, something she was curiously particular about.

I have no idea how long I was subjected to that hell. I did not even want to think about it, truth be told. Each day rolled into the next until it all became a blur. But just when I feared my abused soul and mind would finally collapse under the pain and hate, Jadis allowed her anger to get the better of her.

She had entered all but in a foul mood for she had not found my siblings and there was news of Aslan entering Narnia. Although I tried not to let it show, hope flared into my heart, for the first time in … well, ages. Aslan? The Lion that the beavers had so talked about with such admiration and reverence? Jadis must have seen something flickering in my expression, for she hit me with such force I almost fell to the floor, holding onto a wall alone saved me from toppling over.

"He will not save you, little King…" she spat. I shivered where I stood, chained. The Witch's voice turned cold, and she bent her head, forcing my chin up so my eyes met hers. "Why should he want to save you, you who have let me take you, you who have not even _tried_ to defy me… you who have been the _traitor_…" running a nail down my cheek, she smiled a cruelly indulgent smile. "No, Peter. You are _mine._ Your heart is blackened now. Do you know, Peter, what you have screamed in these hours with me? You have yelled for the deaths of each of your siblings in return for your own life, you have asked that they be sacrificed in your place…" I felt my heart falter with the weight of her words. Had I really said such? I had hoped… but perhaps it was useless me hoping. I had no reason not to trust Jadis' words. She was cruel and vile, but she would never lie to me, had never lied to me. My only comfort was that it was I going through this torment which seemed never to end, not my brother. If Edmund had been here instead of I… well, I would not have been able to forgive myself. Even if he did hate me.

Edmund… once thinking of him my thoughts seemed to stay with him. It seemed I could not forgive him so easily for what he'd done, even though in truth _I _had done the deed. What I could not forgive him for was the way he just… walked away. I had to believe that he had had no concept of what was to happen to me, otherwise I feared I knew Edmund even less than I had once thought. I wanted to know why he hated me so to allow such… pain. I wanted to know, even though I would not wish such for him, why he would wish this on me. I wanted him to forgive whatever unspeakable deeds I had done in the past, I wanted… I wanted home. I wanted my family.

Through my babbling mind, I seemed to find my voice. "Why do you want me?" Jadis had turned, as though to leave, and my words froze her. She turned, eyes furious - the only thing I could see in this darkened room. I swallowed heavily, biting my lip, trying to be strong. "Why, when my siblings and I have done you no harm?!"

She seemed angrier that I was questioning her than anything else. "_Done me no harm?!" _she echoed in disbelief. "You have led them into my world!"

"It was never yours to have!" I shot back.

"And thus you believe it is yours?!" She laughed cruelly. "Truly, son of Adam, for being Aslan's hope, you are no better than I!!" Her voice turned soft and she caressed my cheek. "Will you serve Aslan as you serve me?" She asked, her voice honeyed once again. I swallowed, meeting her gaze.

A beat…

"I have never served you…" I whispered.

"Fool," she sneered at me, whirling round and whacking me full blow across the face.

_**The present…**_

Black light pulsating behind my eyes. Sickening blue light whenever I open them. Either way I feel sick, as though I'm about to throw up. I think I've only been here for about a week, which leads me to wonder… why haven't my siblings come? Why haven't they found me, why aren't I with them? Do they care about me at all? Does Edmund? Perhaps Jadis is right about me, perhaps … perhaps I am as useless as she says I am.

_I want my mother…_ the childish thought escapes my lips before I can even think about calling it back, and I hear a mocking cackle somewhere nearby. Shivering violently I allow my eyes to feast on the light as it enters. A vision of white, deadly beauty, She comes. Smiles at me. Reaches forward to run a hand down my cheek. Narrowing my eyes, I jerk back violently, spitting at her. The Witch in all her displeasure hisses and slaps me twice. I can only glare at her in defiance.

"Idiot boy," she hisses venomously. I narrow my eyes, trying to look as though I don't care how many times she slaps me, she won't get what she wants. And in a way… it's true. I'll _never_ tell her where Edmund, Lucy and Susan are bound. I don't care if Edmund betrayed me. He's just a little boy - all of thirteen - he doesn't know, shouldn't know, the cruelty that people like Her can put people through. And I refuse to let him become a part of her sadistic pleasure. Him, Lu or Susan. And so for them, I will resist as long as possible. I don't care what she does to me, I truly don't.

I've known my life was worthless from the moment Ed was born, because I saw how much our parents loved him and how little they … father especially… loved me in comparison. So I know that if she does kill me, if she does turn me to stone as Mr Beaver said she could do, well… that'll be better than the others being turned into stone, won't it? They're still young, they can still make something of their lives, where as I feel like I've grown old in the space of… well, since father went to war and I was suddenly expected to know and do everything in his stead.

A sharp pain in my head forces me back to the present and I stifle a cry. I think of Hitler, and glare at Jadis as defiantly as I possibly can. She hasn't fed me since I came here, but so far I can deal with that. Heaven knows that at home when things got rough… (not that I ever told mother) and we had no food and Lu and Ed were still hungry after their share I would give them mine. So I can put up with the growling of my own stomach for a while at least. She grabs my cheek in her hands, tightening her grip as I try to jerk away.

"You are mine, little prince…" she whispers, and leans forward, forcefully kissing me on the lips. Cold sweeps throughout my body, and as she parts I am left gasping and shivering horribly, as though she has somehow sucked the very breath from my soul and extracted all warmth.

"I'll never be yours." I shoot back, defiant. The Witch throws back her head and laughs, highly amused. "You can do what you want with me, but I'll never be yours." my voice was stronger than I'd hoped for, and though I tremble, whether with cold or with fear, my eyes apparently hold something which She does not care for, for she quickly backhands me, sending my head snapping backwards. I hiss in pain, shuddering slightly before turning my gaze back to her.

"Is that a promise?" she asks, her eyes glinting dangerously. I wonder whether she can hear my heart as it pounds treacherously beneath my breast, and take a deep, shuddering breath.

"It's a guarantee." I half whisper.

The Queen eyes me with intense dislike, and changes tactic. "How can you be related to him?" she wonders ,aloud. I stiffen. "You, so noble… so… _selfless_… and he, so willing to let you take his place here. When he is the traitor, and you the innocent? How can you be related…?"

"Shut up." I snap, against my better judgement. "You know nothing of either myself or my brother!" Jadis hisses in anger and I am predictably struck down for my words. She hits me so hard that I am half kneeling on the ground from the mere force of it, and struggle to rise again. As I try she points her wand at me, and I stiffen, freezing on the spot, swallowing.

"I swear to you, little prince, in time I will know _everything." _she hisses, and I cannot help but believe her.

_Snap._ My eyes shoot open, snatched from my blissful sleep as pain writhes its way up my hand. A scream tears from my throat as I writhe, pulling back my hand. Jadis is here; looking upon me with intense hatred and… something else I cannot describe. She grabs my hand and forces me to see what it is she has done.

_I am going to be sick…_ my mind pronounces, and abruptly I feel dizziness overwhelming me. The Queen grabs a small block of ice, shoving it into my mouth. For a moment I am unsure of her intent, but as the cool ice slithers its murky way down my throat, I feel myself coming round once more. She gives me a sickeningly sadistic smile, and I swallow, trembling. She raises my hand once again… _Snap, snap, snap._ I bite my tongue so hard I draw blood, but that is better than to give her the satisfaction of screaming aloud. A soft whimper is all that escapes, as my knees attempt to buckle under the pain.

I shudder in pain, staring up at her. _Why, why me? Why this? Why now?… _A thousand questions but I fear no answers will be available. I'm shivering once more, and all I long for is to be allowed to sleep, but the pain in my hand is far too intense.

"Give in." She hisses. In my pain and fear all I can do is blink dazedly, uncomprehendingly, up at her. She is not pleased by this and … _snap_. I close my eyes for the briefest of seconds, feeling a pulsating dizziness surround me. "Give into me, Peter… you cannot fight me, you will not fight me… _give in to the darkness which you _know_ lies within your soul…"_

I shudder, letting out a brief sob and a bare whisper, but it is enough. "No," I will not abandon my siblings. I cannot. I… My thoughts trail off as she grabs hold of me, freeing the chains from me and dragging me to a nearby door I had not noticed before. Upon opening it, she throws me in. My eyes widen as darkness threatens to conquer, and I swallow, backing up against a wall. The Witch barely glances at me as she slams the door, leaving me alone…

Alone…


	3. Dreams or Nightmares?

-1**Disclaimer: I do not own ****"****The Chronicles of Narnia****"****. Everything therein belongs to the grand genius mind of CS Lewis. I would never have the time nor patience (nor, probably, the imagination) to come up with this brilliant and gorgeous world! I just borrow the characters for a while****…**

**Warning: Rated T for now but some later chapters may be M rated due to violence and other punishment. Heavy psychological torture involved throughout. I will warn you before hand.**

**Author's Note: This story was originally called "Treachery, Tears and Torture", and I decided to change it for reasons shown later. Chapters have been revised and edited for the same reasons - the story was flowing far too quickly for my liking before, and with some help I decided to slower the pace down.**

**Chapter Two**

We have travelled for two straight days and are not only cold but miserable too. However, it's nothing compared to what I know my brother must be going through right now. Guilt plummets in my stomach at the thought of him. Chancing a glance at my sisters, I wonder how they could have believed me, and almost wish they hadn't. Angrily I kick at a tree mindlessly as we go through the cold land of Narnia, and do not miss the reproachful look Lucy gives me.

"Give over, Lu, it's a _tree_." I snap. She bites her lip and shakes her head, simply moving closer to Susan. As always my anger seems only to deep at this sibling preference. Damn them. Damn them both. Jadis promised me that I would become a King, and if it weren't for Peter butting his nose in by now I probably would be.

Still, despite my anger, I feel guilty. I really shouldn't have left him, especially when it seemed as though Jadis were more angry that I was there than pleased. Well it's hardly _my_ fault if Lucy, Susan and Peter wanted to stick at that stupid beaver's house for so long. All I wanted… if I were honest… was to watch them being my servants. I could imagine Peter polishing my shoes and the thought pleased me. Her idea of making Peter a slave for me (although she hadn't said as much, more implied it) was probably one of the best ideas I'd ever heard. That idiot needed someone telling him who was boss.

As we stop to make camp, I shuffle away from my sisters and the beavers, who are both curled up next to each other. I eye the male beaver warily. I don't trust him, and he obviously doesn't trust me. He gave me the oddest look as I emerged from the Witch's house, as though he knew exactly what had happened, but how could he? Only Peter and I knew, and I was pretty confident Peter would never tell on me. If he did he would regret it.

I admit I'm more than jealous of Peter. I mean, who wouldn't be? He's the favourite, the bloody perfect older brother that everyone dreams of having. He's never been punished for _anything_ and I don't believe he even _knows_ the meaning of breaking the rules. He's always striving to be the best in everything and somehow, annoyingly, succeeds. I suppose that's why I started picking on him so early in school. It helped that I had a few friends that were well known for their… persuasive… techniques.

I think I only grew angrier when Peter refused to tell mother or father. He would end up so battered and bruised sometimes, it was a wonder they didn't ask him anyway. But they never did. They trusted Peter in a way they never trusted me. Well, mother didn't, anyway. Father did. Father and I were always close, and he could always see when Peter was being an idiot and _I_ was being right. I bet he'd even agree with me now. Peter needed to be taught a lesson, and I hoped Jadis would teach it to him.

Although the other two were worried out of their minds for our brother, I was pretty confident she wouldn't kill him, nor turn him into stone. I mean, she wouldn't. I knew her best of all my siblings, and I was still of the opinion that she knew what she was doing, whereas they downright hated her. Besides, if Jadis was to keep her promise to me, unless she had some very odd magic powers, a corpse as a servant wasn't exactly what I'd had in mind. I hoped, I really hoped, that whatever she did to him, she humiliated him so utterly he would be practically_ begging_ for my forgiveness by the time we got him back.

"What are you thinking about?" Lucy's voice cuts through my thoughts and I give her an angry look. I shrug, using my coat as a pillow as I lay down.

"Home." is my only answer.

Lucy sighs softly. "I miss father," she whispers, and I can hear the watery quality behind her words. My heart softens for the briefest moment before; "I miss Peter… I'm so worried about him…" I feel a wall close round my heart again. Peter again.

"Don't be such a baby." I snap, closing my eyes and pretending to fall asleep. I hear Lucy mumble something in opposition before she moves back to where Susan lays asleep, and slowly I fall into my own slumber.

…_It__'__s dark__…__ where am I? I recognise this place, I recognise the sickly pale blue glow. But__…__ where am I? I hear broken, pained weeping. Someone is crying, hiccupping the way that __…__ Peter? Yes, it__'__s him. I barely recognise him. He seems so small, huddled up in this__…__ where am I? It seems small too__…__ but then if it really were Peter would be hyperventilating by now. My brother does not seem to know I__'__m here, even as I move to his side. __"__Peter?__"__ He simply continues to sob, and anger, hatred and frustration are replaced by horror as he raises his hands to his face, covering his eyes. I focus on his hands, feeling sickened__…_

_Oh dear God. _

_His fingers are all bent and twisted out of shape. The very sight makes me want to retch, and I barely hold myself together. Noticing the smell of vomit in the air indicates that Peter is far ahead of me and has already done so several times. I bite my lip. I've never seen him this way, _never_. Peter never cried, not even when father left, and I hated him for it. Not even when mother told us we might be evicted, he simply dropped out of school and started to work without one word, whilst I remember listening to Lucy and Susan cry themselves to sleep each night._

_Trembling slightly, I reach forward to touch him. "Peter…" my hand lays itself on his shoulder but he does not seem to realise I'm there, or even care. Perhaps he doesn't…. perhaps he has good reason not to. For the first time I feel regret for leaving him here. "I'm sorry, Peter…" I whisper. He does nothing, but his eyes suddenly snap open and he backs up. I stand, frowning. "Peter, I… I'm not going to hurt you…" I stammer, but it's not me he's looking at. Managing a look behind me, I see her. Jadis, the Queen of Narnia, entering all but in a blaze of fury, narrowing her eyes at my brother. _

"_Get up." she hisses. Peter scrambles to his feet and wavers on the ground for a few moments. I bite my lip. "Take off your shirt, son of Adam…" she hisses. Peter barely comprehends her, and I notice the dark circles beneath his eyes. How long has it been since he slept last? Since he came here?_

_I find myself worrying over him unwillingly. I want to tell myself, as I have all along, that Peter deserves whatever this woman lays to him, that he should take whatever punishment is due to him for all the wrongs he has done. But… for the first time in my life I'm starting to see that Peter simply _hasn't_ done anything wrong. He is generally a good person… and… and he does not deserve this…_

"_You are worthless, Peter…" Jadis whispers, and I fancy I see tears still glisten in Peter's eyes. "You are _useless_, nothing. Even your own brother did not want you and threw you to me… to be mine…" Peter trembles but does not speak. I don't even think he can. I want to speak out, say it isn't true, but I can't… because… My thoughts tumble off as Jadis hits him full across the face. I gasp and swallow back my own shouts. "Don't deny the truth, Peter…" she hisses, "You deserve _everything_. Your brother would have had you as his slave, did you know that? I offered him everything, and he would have had you crawling on the ground and licking his boots… so why should _I _show you mercy??"_

_Tears are in my own eyes as I watch Peter simply lower his gaze onto the ground and let her words do what they will. I bite my lip. "I'm sorry, Peter… I'm so sorry…" I whisper sadly. Peter neither seems to hear me nor care. _

I am brought out of my dream with a bump and cry out with indignation, scowling at the offending member. I squint to see Susan glaring at me. She has been rather short with me since I escaped Jadis' house, and I'm sure she is at least part suspicious of what happened. "Sorry to wake you," she snaps. "but we really must get going."

I roll my eyes and get up. "Don't get your nose out of joint." I mumble. "I was dreaming about Peter."

The beavers freeze. Mr Beaver comes up to me and for the first time since I came back from Jadis' house looks me full in the eyes. I find his glare uncomfortable, but only because I'm hiding something. "What did you say, son of Adam?" He asks. I sigh.

"I said I dreamt about Peter." I'm not about to tell them. Lucy looks as though she's about to cry, and Susan has her hand over her mouth. If it weren't' for what I saw last night I'd say they were being melodramatic, but it's beginning to occur to me that maybe, just maybe, they know way more about Jadis than I ever will. I bite my lip. "About something that happened a long time ago."

The beaver releases his grip on me and gives me a hard look before going back to his wife. Mrs Beaver, who I like much more, comes up to me as we start to make our way. "Don't take Mr Beaver too seriously," she advises softly. "He's just worried for your brother… he liked him a great deal." I do not miss the use of past tense and I grit my teeth.

"Peter is not dead." I snap. Mrs Beaver gives me a startled look.

"Of course he is not…" she assures. I narrow my eyes and stalk on ahead, ignoring the confused looks the members of our small party give me.

"Honestly, idiot that he is," I begin, trenching ahead without looking back at them. "I wouldn't care so much if she _did_ turn him to stone, would probably serve him damn well right right about now." there is a halted silence which I pretend to ignore. I can tell that by the time we get to Aslan, if, indeed, we ever do, I am not going to be popular, but I don't care. I try to tell myself that I also don't care about Peter, but my thoughts keep straying back to him.

Somehow I think I'm beginning to worry about him.


	4. Truths and Lies

-1**Treachery, tears and torture**

**Disclaimer: I own neither the Pevensies, or Narnia. Everything therein belongs to CS Lewis.**

**Author's Note:  
Thanks to Wise Night Raven, Edward4life, montogma, Lillian, angry penguin, and Ilonwy for your reviews! You guys rock! I'm sorry its taken so long to reply…**

**Chapter Three**

She locks me in here for three days before I next see her. By the time she returns I am close to hyperventilating and have already vomited more than once. I feel ashamed and angry and frustrated at my own weakness; knowing I've just given this Witch more to play with. But so long as it keeps Susan, Lu and Ed safe, I suppose it doesn't matter. I just wonder how long I can cope with this until she finally breaks me.

Let me tell you she's closer now than she has been in a long time.

I get a feeling she knows, too, for her stance, her whole manner, has changed. before she was brutal. Unforgiving. Now… she almost seems calm. I cannot help but confess that I thought she might be mad at one stage but… but I'm beginning to think tis I that is mad, not she. Not as I originally thought…

"Why, Peter?" she asks, in a thoughtful voice. It's been so long since I heard the sound of my name, I almost forgot it was mine to begin with. I look up from where I sit with my arms round my knees, weary and tired, yet refusing to sleep. No, that's not true… not refusing, unable. But she doesn't need to know that. I suspect she probably knows anyway.

"Why, what?" I respond, making sure to keep an eye on that deadly weapon of hers.

"Why must you sacrifice yourself for him? For them? Do you know, he would have had you scrounging on your knees as a slave, a servant?" I close my eyes for the briefest moment, feeling tears that will never fall pool within them. I open them to look upon her in all her dangerous beauty once more.

"You lie." I whisper, but my voice is thin and she laughs.

"I would not have reason, Peter. Why should I lie to you, you who have done nothing? No, Peter, I do not lie, I tell the truths that you just do not wish to hear." She leans closer, and I stare into her eyes which are a cold blue. "you've always been last, haven't you, Peter? You've always been the one to sacrifice everything, you've always had to give up your dreams in order to keep others' alive… why? Why do you do it?"

I cannot help but be honest with her. She has torn all my walls down through simple cruelty and neglect, and now I don't even care if I live or die. I should care, I know I should… but I just don't. I don't care whether the voices of guilt in my head subside or grow louder, I don't care if the punishment worsens or stops… I just… _don__'__t care._ I look into her eyes and take a deep breath. "Because I know that my life is as meaningless as a life can possibly be."

She smiles. I have pleased her with my words. I don't think I care for that, either. Do I care for anything? I'm not sure… "Then why won't you let me kill them, if your life is worth nothing, surely theirs must be also,"

My tired mind tries to make sense of her words and I swallow. "Their lives have more importance, you have no idea of what would happen if you were to take them. Take mine, for it is nothing…"

"My dear Peter, I already _have_ your life. With one stroke, I could kill you. With a kind word, I could have you begging as I had your brother. With one touch…" she leans forward and kisses me. My head reels and I feel that sickening feeling you get when you've realised the ground is no longer under your feet. I try to pull away but she only deepens it. Her tongue feels like some eel which has invaded my mouth. After what seems like an eternity, she pulls back, leaving me choking for air and feeling violated. Jadis turns away as though she has done nothing, before speaking. "Your kind, Peter, have always hated one another. When I went to your world all I saw was hatred, a thousand bodies crying release… and now I see the same self-hatred in your eyes. What is it, Peter, which makes one think such about themselves?"

I am still gagging for breath but she seems to expect an answer, and thus, heart heavy, I offer the only one I can give. "The knowledge that their lives are as useless and unworthy as a life can possibly be. The knowledge that they are uncared for, unloved, by all those who they themselves hold dear…" my voice cracks

"So, by admission, it should not matter what happened to that person, should it, Peter?" I'm not sure I can see what she's getting at. She's dancing round something, luring me into some sort of false pretence, but I'm so tired, just want to sleep. Curling further into my corner, that one space I now have claimed as my own, I simply shake my head. I must have displeased her further, for once more she backhands me. Startled, I cry out. She presses her face into mine and I cannot even blink; my eyes are hypnotised into her stare. "_Should it, Peter?" _she repeats, and there is a dangerous edge to her words. I sag slightly.

"No…"

She seems pleased and goes to haul me to my feet, but my legs are so weak I cannot stand alone and I promptly fall back to the ground with a soft cry. The Queen glares at me, clearly displeased. "Do you know how long you have been here, Peter?" she hisses. I swallow, shaking my head. It's true, now I think about it I truly have no idea how long I've been here. It could have been centuries for all I know… "You have been here for two years, Peter!" She cries, and my heart stops for a moment. _Two years?!…_ how… why…, _why has no one come?_ She senses my fear and utter confusion and laughs without mercy. "They do not care, Peter. They can rule without you…, you are nothing, _nothing _short of a hindrance to all who you meet. Your very presence is like a dark cloak which spits and engulfs, taking all thoughts of happiness."

My heart sinks a little. Is this true? Why…, I…,…. I bow my head in shame, unable to comprehend the thoughts swirling round my brain at such an alarming pace.

**Author's Note: Okay, what did you think? I'm sorry this chapter is so short, but I had a massive writers block which I think I'm just getting over. Please review and let me know whether you think I did Jadis/Peter justice!!**


	5. Straying and Returning

-1**Treachery, Tears and Torture**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Narnia, nor the Pevensie family. Everything therein belongs to CS Lewis.

**Author's Note**: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you guys ROCK! Hope you like the next chapter!

**Chapter Four**

If I've been here as long as Jadis says I have… why am I still holding on? Obviously my family do not care, for they would have come for me by now if they did. Family love means nothing, then, I see. Jadis is kinder these days. She does beat me - but only if i disobey her. And mostly, I do not. I've never disobeyed anyone. Well, that's not _strictly_ true. She told me that when I first entered I was frightfully conceited, and I must have been, for I bear the marks of my injustice. It is strange what you can grow accustomed to. The faded blue-green glow which is constant here… is almost comforting. Sometimes, when I lay bleeding, after I've been rude (again), it lulls me into sleep.

Even the chains have become normality now.

She enters now, in a fury about something. She's muttering a name that sends chills up my spine, for some reason scaring me more than she ever did - no, wait… Jadis has _never _scared me! Mothers don't do that. But that name… that name is bringing things into my mind, lies, obviously, because I know Jadis… and she wouldn't... she never would…

"_Peter… son of Adam…" A lion stands before me. My first thought is that he looks like a giant cat waiting for its meal, and i briefly wonder whether _I_ am the meal and that somehow I have displeased Jadis. The Lion looks displeased, after all. I bite my lip._

"_He…. Hello?" I stammer. I am stunned to find myself lighter than i have been in such a long time... So long that I cannot remember exactly when… does it really matter? No, probably not… Jadis would have told me if-_

"_Son of Adam." The Lion growls. "You have fallen under _her_ spell… awaken now."_

_Awaken? What does he mean awaken?_ _I'm pretty sure that I'm awake… aren't I? This couldn't be a dream, could it? But it feel so real. Who is he? This… Lion? "you know who i am, Peter… High King… you know that you know. I am the Lion of whom your mistress speaks in fear, I am the Lion whom she hates, and whom comes to save you and your kind… you are under her spell, and thus are blind. You will wake, Peter, and you will wake knowing who you are and what you are doing… know that the truth is within your grasp"_

I gasp, eyes flying awake. Where… who… what??! My vision blurs as my dream comes back to me. Oh my… She _tricked me!!_ Rage boils up inside and the memory of the last few days... How ever long it's been… come whirling back to me, and I feel physically sickened by it all. I don't understand most of it, and some of it... Well it's so vague that I'm almost afraid to probe further. I'm seventeen years old! I should be... Studying and dreaming of… well, of exams, and of… well anything but this! My _God_, I thought this was all normality?

I am trembling when Jadis enters, gleefully. "Prince mine!" she exclaims. "We have good news, the traitor and his family-"

"DO NOT call my brother that," I snap. It occurs to me too late that perhaps it would have been beneficial to have kept my awakening to myself, but her calling Edmund that… well… it grated. I couldn't stop myself, and now Jadis knows. She narrows her icy-blue-grey eyes and kneels, hitting me hard across the face. I have to spit blood from my mouth, and look up at her in something akin to horror. Jadis reminds me of a caged tiger when she is like this - dangerous and unpredictable. Something other than my behaviour and refusal to accept her has started this flame, I am only kindling the hatred and passionate anger within her soul… if she even _has_ a soul.

She cuts off my thoughts and drags me to my feet. I bite back a cry. "We have a long way to go, Son of Adam," she snarls. "You best keep your whimpering quiet, or I'll _give you_ something to whimper about." She kicks me, as though I am a whipped puppy, and I swallow back my emotions, everything… fear... Pain… I will not let her in again, never again… not after…

The Witch (for I shall not call her Queen, she does not deserve that name) drags me uncaringly into a nearby sledge, and chills go up my spine. That fat dwarf - Ginnabrick, I think his name is, is giving me such an odd yet evil look. I swallow and keep my eyes downcast as Jadis pulls me onto the sledge, wrapping my chains around her hands, as though I were to pull the carriage. I cower beneath her, trembling in fear. I do not know where we're going, or what is going to happen…

All I know is that I was under her spell, and I know now just how Edmund must have felt…

**Author's Note: **Apologies for the shortness, but I didn't want to drag it out. Please review and let me know if you liked/loved/hated/despised, etc, etc! Reviews keep the chapters posting :.)


	6. The First Betrayal

**Treachery, Tears and Torture**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything therein belongs to CS Lewis, who created this wonderful world. **

**Author's Note: I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update; but I was eager to finish my other fan fiction 'less than fair', which, I'm delighted to say, is NOW COMPLETE! (almost exactly a year since I started it!) Now I'm fully able to concentrate on this one, so updates should be more regular!**

Acacia59601**: Thank you! Yes, the chapters are supposed to be short for the moment - but don't worry, I plan on them getting much, much longer later on. I'm glad you like it so far, and I hope you keep reading!!**

Montogma:** Ah, yes, I think poor Peter's just about had enough of Jadis, after his little 'wakening'. And he'll be more sympathetic towards Ed now too… hopefully. evil cackle**

Angry Penguin: **Thought it was about time Peter got some help! And who better to do it than the Lion himself?? Glad you liked it **

Princess Lucy: **Here's your update, lol. I'm glad it continues to reach people's high standards, and I hope you like this chapter…**

Edward4Life:**Thank you!!**

Electrum:**Oh yes indeed he did… almost unfortunately so…. evil cackle**

Thank you to everyone who reviewed - you guys keep this fic up and running! I hope you like this next chapter. And just a warning… it's about to get a whole lot darker for poor Peter….

* * *

**Chapter Five**

We proceed with all the speed of hell hounds that have Satan himself following our footsteps, snapping at our heels. I do not know what Jadis is so eager to reach; and I have long since given up the thought of asking. To ask… well, I do not think it would be wise. However, I notice a change in Narnia (if indeed that is still where we are - I know practically nothing of this country) as we fly through. Where as I was shivering, bitterly cold, on our first day of travel, I find myself warming. I thought to begin with that it was just I, but now I see that the snow is slowly trickling down to a slow steady stream, and the true beauty of this place is being revealed to me. I cannot wonder in it though, for in beauty, I only see danger. I thought Jadis was beautiful, and indeed she is, but look what has happened. So now for me beauty means only… pain. Death… and uncertainty. So that must mean I cannot trust this beautiful, beautiful land.

Therefore, I do not look about me as we wade through the lush grasses or gasp as flowers come to bloom before my very eyes. I cannot seem to take delight in this place. Even Ginnabrick, that evil dwarf who so delights in my pain, gasps and exclaims, earning him naught but a cold look from his mistress at each one. My heart and soul are broken, and I cannot trust anything now. I will not trust anything.

We have stopped to make camp, and the Witch is looking suitably displeased as she sees a nearby river and waterfall. I assume she intended to cross it. Looking down at the river, I only wish I could just throw myself in, but she has me still chained yet, and any movement, however small, alerts her. 

From behind us there is a small scuffle and we turn to see wolves - who I have come to hate - gripping a helpless fox within their grasp. My eyes widen; I know this fox! The fox warns me with his eyes not to speak, and I do not, sending him a desperate look of apology. This fox brought Susan, Lucy and I hope when she had first taken him… how long ago that seems now.

"Your majesty," the pack leader comes forward, still holding the fox in his mouth. "We found the traitor, rallying your enemies in the woods…"

"Ah," The Witch turns gracefully, tugging slightly at my chains. "How nice of you to drop in," she adds, as the fox is dropped unceremoniously on the ground. I wince as I hear a small yelp from his throat, and know what it must have cost him to defy her. I bit my lip, wanting to help, not knowing how. I feel sorry for this poor animal, wishing I could do something for him.

"Forgive me, your majesty." The fox bow slightly, his ears drooping ever so slightly.

The Witch gives a small noise of irritation. "Don't' waste my time with flattery," she snaps. I swallow. She is in a dangerous mood; this fox should tread carefully.

"Not to seem rude," he begins, "But I wasn't actually talking to_you_." Silence. The Witch turns her eyes to look upon me, and I am standing like a fool, shocked. _Me_?! Why would he… does he not know how much he is risking? He looks at me with something akin to a smile in his eyes, and although it is nice to know I have one friend here, I am worried for him, more than I am for my own safety.

"Where are the humans headed?" she asks. The fox glances at me and blinks at her in silence. She raises her wand, and in a moment I am about to shout out - knowing the harm that that … _thing_can do.

"Please, no!" I run in front of the fox, shaking my head. She frowns at me, clearly displeased. "Please…" I hesitate. Is it worth risking my family? I wish I knew what to do… besides, if it has been so long as she has said it has been… surely it does not matter any longer. "Something… something was mentioned, about the stone table…" I begin, heart hammering. "Something about Aslan… and an army."

"An army?" For a moment something akin to… fear? Crosses her face. Then it is gone, just a blink. "Thank you, Peter." She turns me aside gently, and in that moment my heart jumps in fear. "I'm glad this creature… got to see _some_ honesty… before he DIED." With that, a silvery-blue bolt sweeps through her staff, and the living fox becomes stone. My eyes widen and I gasp.

"No!" She turns to me, hitting me hard across the face.

"Learn, Peter. I thought I had taught you… I can be kind to those who are on my side… but to those who push me, I can do naught but teach you a lesson." Fear encircles my heart. What does she man? She smiles, as though she knows exactly what I am thinking - and I wouldn't put it past her. All I can do is stare at the fox - the only thing close to a friend I have seen in… so, so long. Destroyed.

Because of me.

OOOoooOOOoooOOO

I cannot stop shaking. The warmth is not enough; my very heart feels frozen in ice, and is beating so, so slowly. I think I am in shock. No… I _know_ I am. I did not … I cannot… I… _God, help me!_ all I want is to die. All I want… is to cease this miserable existence. What am here for? Her enjoyment? It seems so. Well enjoy away, Witch mine, for you cannot know the pain you cause with every step you take further into my destruction. Or perhaps you do, in which case your cruelty is far more deep than I could ever know. 

I feel… used. Cold, broken… disgusting, in every sense of the word.

I do not belong.

All I can do now is curl up, and, finally, as She rests, along with her retched minions, cry.

OOOoooOOOoooOOO

_The next morning…_

She is angry. Very angry. Apparently she did not satisfy her needs last night, and now she wants more. But what can I give? I, a mere boy of seventeen?? Good God, all I ever wanted was to make my parents proud.

They would not be now.

I cannot endure much more of this. Soon I will let her do what she wants of me, and soon I may not have any choice, however much I want to. But… God, I wish I did.

She drags me to my feet. "What do you see, Prince?! She hisses at me. I swallow, taking care in how I answer.

"I see a camp…" I whisper. I cannot hardly speak - I have not spoken for so, so long… and now… my voice grates.

"Fool! That is the Camp of Aslan! Do you _know_ who he is?! I shake my head. It's true - I've only heard of him once… but now I feel only dread when I hear his name. "He. Is. My. _Enemy._"

"And my friend?" the words come unbidden and before I can take them back Jadis whirls to face me, her wand pointing towards me. I freeze. I have seen what this thing can do. My heart is beating wildly, though I do not plead for my life, for I know it is worthless… as I am.

"FOOL!" she screams, her voice hurting my ears. A blinding white-blue flash- then… darkness.

**Author's Note: Oh I'm so evil, am I not? Poor, poor Peter… what will become of him? Well, there's a little button on the left down there which is begging to be pressed! Reviews keep the chapters coming faster! Promise! **


	7. Dashed Dreams

Treachery, Tears and Torture

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing from this wonderful world. Except maybe the rights to send poor Peter into therapy by the end of this… evil smirk

Author's Note: Thanks to Electrum for your review!

Chapter Six

_We are tired - no, exhausted_. Literally being chased by wolves then Lucy falling into ice, and now this… well, it was too much to bare thought to. And on top of that… _Father Christmas!_ Real! Therefore you can imagine when the Beaver announced we would reach the Camp within the day we were all relieved. I was relieved. I wanted to get as far away from Mr Beaver as possible. It was obvious he trusted me not a bit, and the looks he kept giving me - as though he knew what had really happened in Jadis' castle - were off-putting to say the least. Although I liked Mrs Beaver immensely, I tried to stay away from her husband. He looked at me with eyes that were knowing and burning with hatred. I shied away from him and stayed close to Susan, who impatiently shrugged me off at times.

I was glad for one thing. The weather had taken a remarkable turn, and I was - _at last - _able to rid myself of the wretched coat that Peter had so very kindly bestowed upon me some days ago. 

"_But that's a GIRL'S coat!!""I know…"_

I grit my teeth. Peter's smart comment had riled me, still did, but now, I must confess, I feel less annoyed and more understanding, as little as I want to. The dream, or vision, whatever it was, that I had had still haunts me, and I pray that it wasn't real, that it was simply a dream. However, in a land where Beavers talk, who knows what's possible?

"Liven up!" the Beaver's voice speaks out and I raise my head, realising I've fallen several steps behind my family. I let out a soft curse and hurry my footsteps. He gives me a piercing look. "Something worrying you?" he asks with mock concern. I shake my head.

"No, sir." I mumble. He grumbles and shakes his head. 

"Well keep up, we don't have all night and day!"

I am about to hasten a retort when; - 

_I am standing at the edge of some grassy, remote place. Peter and Jadis are staring coldly at each other. Peter… I have never seen him look worse. Dear God, what has happened to him? Is this her work? He looks… old. Even though it has only been a few days, he looks as though he's been hounded by her for years. She sneers at him. "Pathetic child," she moves forward, hitting him round the face. It is not a particularly hard blow, from what I can see, but Peter stumbles and falls._

_My eyes widen as I try to reach him. "Peter!" I cry out. No one deserves this… especially not him… if this Aslan is so wonderful, will he not stop this cruelty?? My brother simply lays where she has backhanded him, trembling, with a strange fear in his eyes. I watch her move over to him, wand in hand, when -_

"EDMUND." Susan's voice yet again snaps me out of the connection - which is as far as I can call it. I let out a growl of frustration and round on her.

_What_?!" I hiss, so venomously that Susan takes a step or two back. Anger colours her cheeks and she shakes her head, dismissing me and simply beginning to walk on. I let out a growl at a rabbit who pops his head out of the burrow nearby, and it simply gives me a startled look, before bobbing back in. _Blast_ all the damned rabbits on earth! Curse them to the Witch, even!

OOOoooOOOoooOOO

The camp is… awe-inspiring. Amazing. Astounding. I feel like a giddy four year old as we walk through, hearts light. Lucy and Susan laugh and smile at each other, the beavers are fussing at each other, and I? I am skulking behind. The… creatures… are gathering round us, curious, I suppose. I remember Lucy saying humans were not allowed in Narnia. Humph. Stupid country, stupid Witch, stupid brother of mine, getting himself-

My thoughts are cut off as one paw emerges suddenly from a tent, then another, as… a Great Lion slowly exits. I feel cold all over, my thoughts stopping themselves and fading away as He comes closer. I stumble myself into a bow, seeing Lucy and Susan - even those cursed beavers - doing the same.

"Welcome, Susan and Lucy, Daughters of Eve," I want to tell Lucy that she is grinning like an insane idiot but check myself just as he moves to speak again. "Welcome, Edmund, son of Adam. And welcome to you, Beavers. You have my thanks…" a pause. "But _where_ is the forth?" Peter again. Always Peter.

"He…" Mr Beaver hesitates, and I cut in, eager.

"He betrayed us." I start. Lucy and Susan's shocked gaze turn up to try and meet mine, but my eyes are all but on the Lion, wanting FINALLY to soil Peter's reputation.

"Then he has betrayed us all!" A creature nearby - no, a _centaur! - _growls out.

"Peace, Oerious!" Aslan's answer is a low, warning growl. "I'm sure there is an explanation."

_Yes, I can give you one, Oh Great Aslan,_ I think sarcastically. _Actually, I can give you a million, but you'll most likely believe them the way you always would. Not like it's my fault that he gave himself, why shouldn't he be the traitor?? _The Lion stares at me for a moment. _Oh… hell. Can he read my thoughts?_ I poise my features into a neutral expression.

Susan is about to step forward to save our brother's reputation, but as Aslan looks at her, she falters. I do not think it is out of fear, but awe. I try not to seem triumphant. _Finally, Peter has his due_. I think. _I'll show you, Peter!_

"In which case," The Lion speaks again. "We must prepare and you three, Beavers included… should rest. It will be a long day ahead of you."

"Please, sir…" Lucy speaks, her voice tiny. I roll my eyes as Aslan turns to face her. At his gaze, she hesitates.

"Yes, dear One?" he asks. She manages a small smile, gathering up her courage. 

"Will nothing be done to save Peter? He hasn't done anything terribly awful… really and truly he hasn't!"

The Lion gives a small nod. "Perhaps, young one. Perhaps… but not now, and not here. First, you must rest. You will be taken to your quarters."

OOOoooOOOoooOOO

_The Witch's Camp_

I feel miserable. Jadis' wand did not kill me, nor turn me to stone. I wish it had. I wish to God it had. Better that than what she has done to me. If Susan were here she'd say that at least I wasn't dead. But then… is it really worth being alive and being so…_useless_? My family will never understand, should I ever get back to them… not that I have any hope. It has been too long, too long. Ginnabrick takes great delight in this new… development, and constantly irks me by doing whatever he can to make me more uncomfortable, knowing I cannot protest. I once thought that he was simply under her curse, as I had once been. But I now see it is deeper than that. I thought, stupidly, foolishly, that perhaps he was afraid of her. But no. This is a dwarf who _loves_his mistress… and who would do anything for her. Anything. She watches me every minute even though my wrists are bound so tightly behind my back that I cannot move, even though she makes fare sure that I cannot move so much as an inch away from her without it causing me pain. My only comfort here is that at least Edmund is not suffering this torture instead of I. Beast he may have been - but no one deserves this.

She has gagged me, though I don't know why. Perhaps she's mocking me. If so, it's working. As Ginnabrick ties me to a tree, my back grates against the nearest tree, and I wince. I try to appeal to her with my eyes, but she does nothing, says nothing.

I think of my father - lost in a war - and hope that it's something better than this. I'm glad he cannot see me now… he cannot ever know what has happened… no one ever can. Not even this Aslan they all speak of. I want to cry out, I want to _cry_… but she wont even allow me that. She would never allow me any sense of reprieve. She moves towards me now, and brings her blade towards me, kneeling next to me. Her sadistic smile sets my heart racing as she trails the blade from my stomach up to my throat, as I try not to squirm. I have endured worse than this - worse from her. Not that any one can ever know. The very thought of what I have… done… puts me to shame.

How could anyone want me after this? How could anyone want a brother, a friend, a King, a… son… even a lover, as I'd once hoped that in time I might be? Good God, who would even want me as a husband, a father? I've been kidding myself all along, and this nightmare will never end. If I were ever to return to England, I'd be seen as a freak of nature… disowned and discarded by the world. We live in a world that does not so easily accept those who are … different. And now, thanks to Jadis, I am just that. I will never be whom I once was, and, although in some ways that is perhaps good, in other ways… it sickens me.

I will never be able to go to University now. Such trivial things to anyone else, but it was my hope…. If somehow I got out of this mess, to immerse myself in the works of minds far greater than my own. 

But what university would accept a man who cannot even speak?

What world would ever accept… 

A mute?

Author's Note: Now who was expecting that? Peter's a mute… is there no end to my evil… hmmn, probably not! Let me know what you think!! 


	8. To Dance, Sing, Laugh

**Treachery, Tears and Torture**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia. Everything therein belongs to CS Lewis.**

**Author's Note: **Electrum:** winks Good things come to those who ask… and I believe Peter has finally asked…. But remember, the worst and hardest road is that not taken… **Angry Penguin: **I know I am… I'm sorry! Lol. Thank you! **Princess Lucy:** You're very welcome! I hope you… enjoy? That is if you like seeing Peter suffer! lol** Acacia59601: **Do you really think I'd dare leave you guys with a cliffy on its own? I'd be dead!! And as for your questions or…err… demands… well, you'll see. Winks Thanks to everyone who reviewed; you guys are awesome! **

**Chapter Seven **

The morning is bright, but that means nothing to me. I have heard their plans. They plan to bait Aslan for Edmund, and kill me anyhow. I am tired, lolling against the tree they have so precariously prostrated me against. The Queen - Witch - moves over slowly, and kneels down so she is facing me, smiling. I have learned to fear that smile, and do not smile back. She gives a soft laugh. "Do not fear, little Prince… your just rewards will soon be handed to you." she whispers. Even if I could answer, I would not. If she wants me dead; I welcome it. I am all of seventeen, and my life has been taken before my very eyes and ruined into something horrid and disgusting. My parents would never recognise me, nor my siblings. I do not tremble, simply watch her as she smiles that dangerous smile of hers.

I cast my eyes to the ground, and Jadis is anything but impressed. She lets out a hiss and produces her knife, running the tip down my cheek. I tremble slightly but otherwise do nothing. As if I could, anyhow. "Do you fear, child?" she asks. I swallow, knowing I cannot answer. Inside my head, a Latin phrase my father taught me revolves round, passing me strength;

_Dum spiro… spero_

I meet her eyes with a steely response which cannot be expressed with words. She lets out an unpleasant laugh. "Careful, boy," she whispers, moving uncomfortably close. "I could slit you from one point of your miserable body to the other." And I almost wish she would… just to end this humiliation. Instead she grabs hold of my head, yanking it up to meet her icy gaze and pulling out a large clump of hair in her eagerness. I shudder, but that is it.

_Dum spiro… spero_

_By the Grace of God… please, someone… help me. I am only a boy, I have done nothing, nothing to warrant this. _If I could shout out and call for help, I would… but She has seen to that already. She knows my mind, a scary concept, but apparently true. "Your camp awaits you soon, my Prince…" she whispers. "See to it that you… hold your tongue." she laughs at her own joke, whilst I do nothing. I cannot do anything, simply allow her this amusing… if it can be called that… rant.

It occurs to me that never again can I tell my siblings I love them. I do not believe I told them that since… when? When was the last time any affection passed between Edmund and I? When did I sit down and just have a good talk with my only brother? Now I'll never be able to. Of course, there are ways.. I could write my way through this world, but the idea is almost laughable. 

I cannot even laugh, though. Laughing requires a tongue, and a tongue I do not have. A useless flab of skin within my mouth replaces the ward of communication… and I shall never, never speak again.

_Dum spiro… spero_

_I will not cry. I cannot cry. Never. Build a wall, don't let them see… if I ever return; I shall hide the pain, the fear… the doubt._

**Author's Note:**

"**Dum spiro, spero" is a Latin quote which means "While I breathe, I hope".**


	9. Reunion

**Treachery, Tears and Torture**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia… or the characters therein. And it's probably a good thing I don't' too! Everything belongs to CS Lewis…**

**Author's Note: Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who reviewed! You guys are FAB! hands out cookies. **

**Chapter Eight**

I am snatched from my precious moments of sleep by the sound of angry yelling and roaring of 'we have the King!' 'we have the traitor!'. I force my eyes open as the ground gives way beneath me and I find myself lifted into strong arms. I feel sick at the sudden motion, and flail about a little, desperately trying to settle myself in this new situation. "Steady, boy." A harsh, male voice speaks above me. My eyes snap open and I look up into the stern eyes which go with the cold voice. "If you move you will fall, and we are sent here by Aslan's word alone." _Aslan…?_ Has he finally heard my prayers? A million questions, but not one of them can ever be asked. "I suggest you sleep, you shall have much to answer for when we return you to Him." His voice causes me to force my eyes open, and stare up at him in question. _Much to answer for?? _What does that mean? I want to ask about Susan, Lucy and Edmund… I want to know they are safe, but I'm so tired, and besides, I could not speak even if I wanted to. I find myself hating this world, hating the world and everything within it. Even with the summer there is only evil, the worst evil comes with the beauty of the world. _By the Grace of God… please, save me… take me home._

OOOooooOOO

I awaken to a soft pillow and the likes of comfort that I have not felt in… oh, _years_. A thousand places prick with pain, non so much as my heart, though. I swallow as my head pounds and I try to sit up, before a large paw places itself on my stomach, forcing me back down. I gasp silently at the pain, tears coming to my eyes. _If this is rescue… 'tis not much different as she gives._

"Peace, son of Adam." A deep, rumbling voice remonstrates, and I force my eyes open. Before me stands the most beautiful, proud and terrible thing I have ever seen in my life. Even Jadis, in all her wretched beauty, cannot compare. A Great Lion sits nearby on the floor, watching me with a sad smile upon His face. I know without a doubt who this is. _Aslan…_ "You have endured much, Child… and I regret that you have much yet to endure. Your trials are not over, Son of Adam… you must win the trust of a country who has long abandoned you." I close my eyes. Does it really matter if they don't trust me? I don't want this… I don't want to be here, I just want to go _home_, I want to forget everything, everything that was done to me, everything that she did…

I want to forget what I've become, and go back to what I was.

"You can never forget, Son of Adam, all that happened. And I hope you never will - for it is those things which will make you a stronger Man for it. Take faith and pride in who you are." My eyes snap open and I stare at him in disbelief. _Pride?!_ Pride for WHAT? Being her slave? Being her… I cannot even say it. The very thought disgusts me, shames me, makes me want to crawl under the nearest bush and hide forever more. "You have met the General, Peter." I swallow as the stern creature who rescued me enters the room, his expression still hard. Aslan turns to face him, forgetting me for the moment. "General, as soon as the King is ready, you must train him in sword and riding." The grim smile is the General's answer, and I feel sick. He is going to enjoy this. Is _no one _here out for anything save my blood? What have I done so terribly wrong? I protected those I love…

"_Peter!"_ There is a squeal which makes me wince, but then I recognise the voice and my face brakes out into the first smile I have had cause to smile since… well, before Dad left. Sure enough, a blur of brown and green tumbles me back onto the bed, laughing and crying all at once. _Lucy. _My dear, dearest younger sister. You have not changed one bit, thank God. I can only hug you as tight as my arms allow, and that is less than enough. It has been so, _so_ long… "Oh Peter, I've missed you so!" she whispers, causing tears to come to my own eyes. I hastily blink them back, wishing I could tell her just how much I have missed her also. But I can't… I never can again. All I can do is hug her tightly, hug her and hope she is never taken from me again.

"Peter?" Another female voice. I look up from Lucy's hair, and my eyes light up yet again. Susan! I hold out an arm for her and she runs to me, gently but firmly pulling me into her arms. I do not protest. I'm just so happy to see them alive, well, and unharmed. Everything I went through is worth it just to see this moment, here, now. "Peter, oh Peter… thank God you're safe…" she whispers. I manage a bitter smile, glad she cannot see it. Safe? Here? I? No, dear sister. I will never be safe in this land… there's nothing I wish for more than to leave here, as soon as possible, and never, never look back.

"Oh Peter, is not Narnia wonderful?!" Lucy garbles, eyes excited. No, sister. It is not. Not the part I have seen, anyhow. Never… it can never be, not for me. All the beauty in this world, even Aslan, in all his majesty, cannot save me… cannot change me from this.

"Pete?" A slow, unsure voice calls my name, and I look up from my sisters to see Edmund. Edmund. Feelings of mixed anger, hatred, guilt and fear enter my mind, but in the end… sadness conquers. And an overwhelming relief that he is, in fact alive. The strangest thing to me, perhaps, is that … they, not one of them, look any older than I have left them. Slightly wiser, perhaps, but non the older. Surely, after two years, they should have changed?

But for now that matters not. They are here - they are alive - they are _safe_. Thank God, they are _safe._

"Pete…" Lucy touches my shoulder. I turn to her, a question in my eyes. She bites her lip. "Why won't you say anything?"

The dam breaks, and, in that instant, the tears which I fought for so long to hold back finally fall. My siblings can only watch in horror and confusion as I weep silently, always silently.

**Author's Note: smiles sheepishly Um… well, what can I say? I figured the boy needed a slight reprieve. But Oerious is definitely NOT happy with our future High King… oh, no. evil laugh. And yeah, Lucy's hyper. She doesn't realise everything just et, but she'll come to…. She'll come to. Meanwhile there's a little button on the left which is just BEGGING to be pressed… hint, hint Review if you love me! just kidding. Lol. **


	10. No Voice

**Treachery, Tears and Torture**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia, nor the characters within. Everything belongs to CS Lewis.**

**Author's Note: Wow! How many of you want Ed dead right now? sees Edmund cowering nearby Even **_**I**_** want to wallop him, and I wrote him like this! Thank you, thank you a million for your fabulous reviews - you guys are just amazing! I'm sorry this chapter is so short - I promise it will be longer for the next chapter…**

**Chapter Nine**

He looks so small, so fragile. Laying there, immobile, I wonder how I can hate him so much, how he can _make_ me hate him so much when he wakes. At what point does frail and fragile turn to arrogant and conceited? We were once so close. We could still be, but he won't let us. Small, fragile… yeah, right. About as fragile as a tempted snake. I've heard the names they call him. I've seen his reaction. Even though I didn't want to, I saw his pain… and I closed my eyes to it. I don't want to feel guilty. I have nothing to feel guilty about, surely? He chose this… he chose _her_.

Oerious hates him. He was practically spitting fire as he led Peter to the training grounds earlier. I swear he actually _shoved_ him into the ground. Oerious is so very large and impressive… I am just glad I am not the one he despises. I can hear the clang of swords now. Well… of _a_ sword. The General is short on temper, and shouts almost constantly. But I don't care. It's non of my business…

OOOooooOOO

I wish I could tell him. This he-centaur which so hates me. I wish I could tell him everything, from start to finish, every painful little detail, and then maybe he'd stop torturing me. I don't _want _to be here. I hate this place; I hate Narnia, I hate it! If I could speak, I would scream my hatred to the very heavens, or the very depths of hell.

But I have no voice with which to do so.

His disappointment and pure _venom_ is clear as he attacks again and again, barely leaving me room to breathe. "Come Prince, do you _want_ to disappoint me?" he seethes. His sword crashes down on me, but I barely notice. His words have frozen me, brought back an unwilling memory.

"_Do you want to disappoint me?"_

_A harsh laugh, the slapping of leather across bare skin, my own screams… _

"_My Prince, do you want to disappoint me…?"_

_Begging, crying, failing, falling… _

"_Do you want to disappoint me? Do you not want to please me…?" _

_Flash of blue eyes… blue, cold eyes. A sickened laugh, filled with eagerness. The clash of metal chains… the dull thud of -_

"High King!" I fall forwards, onto my front, and the General, stunned, drops his sword, watching as I fall. I can barely stop myself as I vomit heavily on the ground, making hardly but a sound, shivering, shuddering… every beat, every hoof across the lawn, every mocking laugh… 

Another memory… another moment…

_My prince… would you disappoint me?_

**Author's Note: Anyone care to venture a guess? What is it poor Peter is remembering? And **_**when**_** will Ed stop being such an ass? Well, see that little blue button on your left? Review, review away! **


	11. Confession

**Treachery Tears and Torture**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, which is probably a good thing as the characters (especially a certain blonde…) would be shivering in terror and fear right now! All belong to the genius CS Lewis…**

**Author's Note: My massive apologies to everyone; I'm so sorry I haven't updated in ages, writer's block hit me with full force and the only thing I was able to write were a couple of one shots on a musical! Still, here's a chapter and hope it's okay…. Thanks again to everyone for your support and reviews! You are all awesome **

**Chapter Nine**

I had heard about Peter's disastrous training sessions with the good General. It seemed that our general was not so bound to teaching Peter as to beating him. Peter had come back wearied in heart and body, and I found myself actually pitying him, not that I would say anything. I watched him from my hammock, as he lay down and let out a soft sigh. It occurred to me I'd never seen him so weak… so… _beaten._ For some reason, although much was my own fault, I found myself angry at the general. Who was he to judge Peter? If he did not know the facts… how could he know anything?

I found myself marching into Oeroious' tent hardly caring that he was talking to Aslan. "General, a word." I demanded. He blinked several times, glanced at Aslan, who nodded, and then swept a brief bow.

"Majesty…"

"You dare treat my brother with such conduct?!" I seethed, barely out of Aslan's presence before I began my rant. Oh I was more than aware of the hypocrisy of my own words; but the general did not know that… and did not need to.

"Majesty-"

"No, damn it General!" I snapped. "He is to be High King, appointed by Aslan Himself, and you - YOU - treat him with the lowest conduct there is! You dishonour yourself and Narnia." I turned to leave, but the General's next words filled me with a passionate rage.

"With respect, sire, I believe tis your brother who dishonoured Narnia…"

I span on my heel, glaring at him. "You know nothing!" I yelled. I was so furious I didn't even think about the words as they came out. "Nothing of him and nothing of me and nothing of my family! Damn it General - these people, you _Narnians_, you know NOTHING! T'was not Peter who betrayed you but I!" Such was my fury I barely registered the look on his face. "I who went to her, for sweeties! I who Peter then followed, to save me! I who watched him give up everything to be freed! And I, I who walked away, knowing her evils!" I narrowed my eyes at him, shaking. "Tell me now, General, can you truly judge those who have done naught wrong?"

The General could only watch me, stunned into silence, as I stormed out of his tent, still shaking furiously at myself and he.

**Author's Note: Okay, so I know it was short… but what did you think? Ed's finally admitting the truth, but is it enough to win back some support from you all? There's a little blue button on the left begging to be pressed! **


	12. Status in the Sword

**Treachery, Tears and Torture**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing….**

**Author's Note: Again, I'm so, so sorry! I haven't updated in forever, and this is yet another really tiny snippet of a chapter. But I'm slowly getting back my creativity… I'll try to get the next one up soon, if I still have reviewers (puppy dog eyes). Thanks to everyone who reviewed and keeps reviewing, you guys rock!!**

**Chapter Ten**

Narnia is becoming insufferable. The people, animals, whatever, here are becoming more and more demeaning as each day passes. They laugh, call names and refuse to even acknowledge me as I walk by them, some even throw things. To them I am the lowest form of scum; the traitor walking amidst them, and the fact that I cannot retaliate, lest not with words, only causes them to rub their hands, paws, with glee. Susan tells me that I should rise above it. I cannot tell her that I am too tired to rise above anything. I have been beaten, forced down, by those I called friend, and now my heart is paying the price. My heart is breaking… or broken, I cannot really tell which.

Lucy tells me that they saw Father Christmas. I so would have loved to be there with them… to see him. She tells me they received gifts; Lucy herself received a cordial and a small knife. The thought of my littlest sister in battle only sickens me. Susan received the bow I have seen her carrying proudly round her shoulders, along with a quiver of arrows. And Edmund… Edmund received a beacon. The purpose of this we know not, Lucy tells me… but I'm sure Aslan, (who in all his whit has not the thought to meet me himself yet), has his own reasons, and everything will become clear in time.

Or so they tell me.

I hear there was some disturbance with my brother and the General. I was barely able to hold back a snort when Susan proclaimed him "perfectly lovely". Perhaps to her. Ah- speaking of the 'perfectly lovely' General, here comes the good sir himself. I wonder, does he fancy beating me at sword parry once more? I wish I could throw the towel with this whole wretched country. I hate it here, I hate it so and yet I fear I will never be able to leave. I am to rule this forsaken country and I'd gladly burn it to the ground. I cut my thoughts off as the General approaches.

"King Peter?" he asks, and my head snaps up, startled. Never before has he called me 'King'. Prince was as far as I was titled. "May I speak?" I sigh softly and gesture for him to go ahead. He sighs, looking apologetic. "Highness, if you'll forgive me, this may require you to come with me… there is something you should have." _A punch? An extra jibe? No thank you, good sir… _"Please?" With a reluctant roll of my eyes I stand, following him into an enclosed tent. I frown as he turns to reach something, then turns back to me, holding forth a sword. My eyes widen at the beauty of the weapon, and I find myself, for the first time in Narnia, admiring something created by these people. I raise my eyes questioningly to meet his. "Sire, this sword is yours. Father Christmas" - the words seem almost ridiculous coming from him. I almost want to click my heels three times and say 'there's no place like home' - "asked that it be given to you… as a mark of your loyalty." My eyes narrow. Is he deliberately challenging me? "and of your status…" he must be. My status in Narnia is lower than dirt - each creature on this forsaken place wants me dead… bar perhaps the great Lion himself.

And I would welcome the death.

My eyes turn to meet the General's, seeing the apology in his eyes. For a moment I hate him. Then, as such is my apparent… _status_… I turn on my heal and walk out, leaving the General with his sword, standing alone, as I have been for so long.

**A/N: A little too random, perhaps? I'm not sure… see that little button? It's waiting for YOUUU!! **


	13. Hope Arrives

**Treachery, Tears and Torture**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything herein belongs to CS Lewis, the CS Lewis estate and the actors. I gain nothing out of these writings, except satisfaction (sometimes) and enthusiasm out of people's reviews.**

**Author's Note: Okay…. So I know it's been a really, REALLY long time since I updated this. And I cant' believe people are still reviewing - I'm shocked but so, so happy, you guys got me writing again! I apologise so much for the shortness of this chapter, but it is vitally important if not a little clichéd in parts (?). Thank you to everyone who's stuck with me and continued to stick with me - your reviews mean more than I can say!**

**Chapter Eleven**

Something is stirring. They are careful not to speak in my presence but something, something has definitely happened. They are all uneasy, reminding me of the way animals behave before a storm. And perhaps it is a storm, but not of Nature's making. From where I sit in my tent I know that somewhere, a great force is being gathered - I can see the General commanding people to do such and such, yet I am never involved.

"Your highness?" A leopard cub, enters with somewhat joyfulness, leaping about slightly. A small smile tugs on my lips and I nod for it to come closer. It does so, and bows slightly to me, shocking me. "Aslan wishes to meet with you," she says softly, ears twitching. I rise, nod, and reach forward hesitantly to stroke the gorgeous fur of this animal. She stiffens for a mere second, before leaning into my touch. I am astounded - should not every animal recoil? I am Jadis' plaything… surely they should hate me. The cub eventually pulls away, blinking innocently at me. "If you ever need call on me," she says softly. "by any means," she adds at my snort. "my name is Hope."

I smile down at her, the first smile in such a long time, and nod, before following her to the great tent I have not yet been allowed within. I stop outside, and she gently nudges my foot - she is hardly tall enough to force me in, and all I feel like doing is fetching her a ball of yarn to play with in the most affectionate of ways. She is the first animal here to treat me kindly, and the first animal I have allowed myself to return kindness.

As we enter the tent, my eyes widen at the sight of the Great Lion. I manage to somehow shake from my stupor into a low bow, seeing the cub do the same. "Peter, Son of Adam, and High King of Narnia, arise," he speaks, his voice low and rumbling. I do so, trembling a little, unsure whether I should be in his presence, whether somehow my wrong-doings will taint his nature. He shakes his head slightly at me, then looks down at the cub at my feet. "Hope, you may leave us be for now… I shall send for someone to inform you when the High King is to return to his tent," The cub nods, glances at me before bounding out. A smile tugs at my lips then freezes as the Lion moves to my side. I swallow, slowly meeting his eyes. "Son of Adam," he growls softly. "You refused your sword?"

The question confuses me for a moment and I bow my head, realising it was a gift from him, not a slight from Oerious. _I meant no disrespect to you… I just… I wanted to prove to him I wouldn't accept such a gift after such treatment…_ I think desperately. The lion pauses, then nods.

"I understand you well, King Peter, but now is not the time for caution. Word has reached my ears that the Witch-Queen intends to claim you and your brother as her own." _No! She cannot!_ I scream within my mind. _"If she does then… then…_ "Then everything that you have done to save him will be in vain," the Lion finishes. I stare up at him, stunned. How did he…? "Your thoughts are open to me as you wish them to be," he says gently. "Those that cannot speak have naught to fear for me for I will always protect them. Peter… you are not alone. There are ones who will help you, be by your side, and I regret that they have not so far presented themselves as such," he paused. "you may find they become more accommodating in present times."

_What….?_

"It is wise for you to know little rather than a lot at any one time, High King." The Lion reminds gently. "Patience is perhaps a virtue greater than many, and though you have endured much, there is much still to endure." He pauses briefly. "The one thing you long for I cannot give, for it is a deeper magic than I have access to. Only Time will change what has been, and Time has been asleep for a long, long time." The Lion smiles slightly (as Lions can) at my confusion. "That which you long for can perhaps be yours again, but not by my reckoning, King Peter."

_Please…. Just give me my voice back, that is all I want, for now, all I need._

"Your voice had been taken for a reason, my King," Aslan says softly. "If you cannot speak, then watch. If you cannot comment, then listen. Help those that others cannot hear, cannot see, for their voices raise above everything. You are the first to show kindness to the leopard you encountered earlier - her mother abandoned her and thus so far I have raised her, but you are the first so departed from her kind that has not treated her as a dumb beast."

I frown. How can _anyone_ treat such as a dumb beast?

"You yourself have been treated dumb," He says softly, and my eyes jerk to met his, and I swallow slightly. He is right. But… if he knows what has happened, why does he not speak out in my defence? Why doesn't _anyone?_ The Lion shakes his head. "You must… prove your worth here, son of Adam. There are ways you could protest your innocence… if you would only listen instead of speak out." With that he turns, leaving me to stare at him in confusion as he exit's the tent graciously.

"Your highness?" That little leopard is back, butting me slightly with her head. I turn, managing a smile for her as I kneel next to her, stroking her fur as I remember Aslan's words, biting my lip. "Your highness… food is being prepared for your majesties." she shuffles slightly. "Would you prefer to sit with your brother and sisters or eat alone?"

I bite my lip. I cannot tell her; does she not know? _I wish to eat alone…_ I think, only wishing I could speak to her through my thoughts. Hope flickers her tongue. "I shall tell the cook not to lay out a place for you, Highness…" I blink, startled. She looks up at me with a childish innocence. "Aslan taught me how to read the thoughts of men," she said quietly. "I can sense your thoughts, and wishes… " with this I gather her in my arms, holding her close as I bury my face into her fur, briefly overcome with emotion as I stay still for a moment.

_Aslan, thank you… thank you for sending me this creature to be a friend. Thank you for giving me a chance._

The little cub wriggles after a few minutes and licks my face, causing me to give a somewhat startled laugh. "You are the first friend I have made," she says softly. "And therefore the most important, most trusted. I do not care what is said about you, you have been kind to me above many," she nuzzles into me.

As we head back to my tent, I send another thought to Aslan, not even caring if he can hear. _Thank you - thank you for giving me Hope. _My heart feels somewhat lighter than it has in what seems like a lifetime. I have a friend.

**Author's Note: Ok … what did you think? Too cliché? I had to give Peter something to hold onto, and decided to give him something literal. I'm not sure about how this went, so any criticism (as long as its constructive!) would be great. Little button on the left just waiting to be pressed (p.s. - it's the review one! ;) ) **


	14. A Change in the Weathers

**Treachery, Tears and Torture**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, nothing! Everything herein belongs to CS Lewis and the CS Lewis estate. Please don't sue -- not that you'd get anything much if you did!

**Author's Note: **I'm such a terrible author -- my extreme apologies to everyone! I'm so sorry I've taken so long to update, but I wanted to get this chapter just right, and it wouldn't flow properly. Many, many thanks to the people who've stuck with me so patiently, you're all awesome. Oh, and happy Samhain! My apologies once more for a reasonably short chapter.

**Chapter Twelve**

My brother is fading from us. Slowly, each and every thing that makes Peter who he is, is slowly fading from us. Either no one sees, or no one cares. I don't know which annoys me most. I may only be a girl, and a young one at that, but I am still a sister. I am not Susan, with her airs and graces and 'do' or 'don'ts'. I am not Edmund, whose temperament changes with the weathers, I am simply myself, Lucy Pevensie, and watching my brother fade away from me like this is slowly killing me also. I cannot understand how Edmund and Susan cannot see it and do nothing! Edmund was always a beast, but Susan…she and Pete were so close once. I love Narnia, and I love the people here. I just wish I could get Peter to understand that not everything here is bad. There is a ray of sunshine even in the darkest of clouds, and it seems it has fallen to me to shine the torch for my brother.

I see he's rather taken with that little leopard that follows him around - Hope. If Peter were able to talk then I would listen, for as long as he wanted to talk. He is our very own Dear Heart, as I remember mother calling him once, and all I want to do is to give back some of the comfort he has so often given me. But I have something, something that could help. It is a wonder no one else has thought of it before, and I know it will only briefly compensate for what has been lost but -- oh, blast it. I'm getting ahead of myself as always.

Seeing Peter walking with Hope, I stand up, running over to him. He almost ignores me, then realises who I am, and smiles, if not wanly. Oh what I wouldn't give to see him smile properly again! I take his hand, smiling myself despite everything. "I have something for you," I say softly, and he gives me a slightly confused, and sad look. Hope looks up at him, then at me, and sighs softly. "Please, Peter?" I press, taking both his hands. "Please trust me?" He gives a bitter laugh, which shakes me to the core of my being. Alright, so I know he doesn't trust many people here but… I'm his sister! We've always had a strong connection, the loving bond of brother and sister, how can he not trust me?

I force any thoughts from my head, and simply glance at Hope pleadingly, as she apparently speaks for him. She glances up at Peter, and he sighs, before nodding, with a shrug. I bite my lip, and move towards my tent. Peter follows, cautiously, and stands outside as I turn to him with a frown. "Peter….? You can come in, you're my _brother_." I exclaim with a soft laugh. He shrugs, and leans against a nearby post, obviously making a point to be awkward. I sigh, forcing back my feelings of hurt and move inside my tent, rooting to find what I -- ah! There it is. Moving back to Peter, I smile broadly, presenting him with his present.

*****

A… pencil? And some sort of notepad? I glance at them incredulously. Lucy is staring at me, hoping, waiting. Probably for me to drop to my feet and thank her profoundly for her present. What, is this meant to solve my problems? Is this a magic pencil, or perhaps a wand? Lucy's smile is fading, and something inside me wishes that I could sneer at her in words. But I can't. So I do the next best thing. I take the wretched pencil thing in my hands, and snap it, slowly, watching Lucy's face fall further, feeling a certain joy in it. A glance at Hope shows her ears are slowly drooping -- she's unused to this side of me, it doesn't show often, and she has no idea how to placate it. Well, blow her. I don't need her or anyone! And I certainly don't need some ridiculous pencil which will solve my problems for all of … what, two minutes? What am I here, a laughing stock?? I drop the pieces to the ground, one by one, seeing tears fill my baby sister's eyes. The so-called paper stuff she's somehow made appear from somewhere or other (I don't particularly care where), I tear up, watching her bite her lip in an effort to stop tears. Cry baby.

I've had enough of this place. Of its blasted King. Of… everything. Including my stupid little sister. I spin on my heel, walking away. I only vaguely notice that Hope does not follow.

**Author's Note: Reviews are welcome, as always. **


	15. A Prayer, A Sign, A Wish

**Treachery, Tears and Torture**

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. Everything herein belongs to CS Lewis and the CS Lewis Estate.**

**Author's N: I am a horrible, horrible fan fiction author who must beg all of your forgiveness! A massive writers block stopped me from updating on this fanfic, and I'm afraid although its only a snippet of a chapter (again), its my peace offering. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that this chapter brings a little answer to you all. Thank you to everyone who continues to read and review... you guys keep this fic going (seriously, you've no idea!)**

**Chapter**

The two most formidable animals in Narnia faced each other, each one calm on the outside; though a burning fire raged within. Oerious, the General of the Army of Aslan, stood facing his Lord, his eyes narrowed, his tail flickering with the signs of utter annoyance. Aslan, the Lion, sat on his hunches, his own eyes calm as he silently challenged his General to speak against him, knowing that he never would.

"Aslan, the boy cannot stay a mute," The centaur protested. "if he is to be High King, he will need his voice. He will need to speak out against those who will try and bring him down. He will be a target all his life if you continue to allow this mutation."

A low growl indicated the Lion was not pleased. "I cannot change what has happened to him, Oerious." He spoke calmly. "The Witch's magic still runs through the veins of Narnia, and although weakening, is still strong."

"Then you must pick the sister to be the High Queen!" The centaur decided. Aslan shook his head, his mane rippling.

"Nay. Susan has wit but she is not equipped with such a task. Narnia would fall – even though I do not see her as weak, by all means she is strong, but she is too genteel to be the warrior that the brothers must be when they rise to their proper places."

"I do not see why the younger brother should be allowed to be King at all!" Oerious pronounced, shaking his head. "He has done nothing to deserve such a title, nothing!"

"And yet he came to you with his confession, did he not? He admitted his sins to you; left the decision in your hands. And you decided to come to me instead of pronouncing to all of Narnia."

"I know that my loyalties lay with you, Aslan." The centaur assured. "Yet sometimes I must condone your actions; for they are nothing like what I would expect of such a great King."

Aslan growled slightly. "It is not for me to decide the fate of a family, Oerious. All I wish is for the prophecy to be fulfilled, for Narnia to come into peace once more, and for Jadis to finally come to whatever end the Fates have planned for her." He paused. "However, Oerious, you must have faith that Fate has decreed a high position for Peter Pevensie."

The centaur frowned; shaking his head. "I do not understand, my lord."

"The winds are changing, Oerious. Time cannot be reversed, actions cannot be undone, but the winds are changing... " the Lion gave something that seemed like a hint of a smile, and the Centaur sighed.

"And what of the Kings and Queens?" he asked. "When are they to become who they are? When are they supposed to grow into the ones you have long foretold they would be? They are naught but children now – scared, small children."

"Nay." The Lion spoke. "They are _more_ than children, General. As you would know if you knew what I do. I expect great things from the Pevensie children because I am sure they are capable of them. Remember, Oerious, everything happens as it is meant to. However horrible it may seem, it happens because the Fates have decreed it."

"But the youngest son must know justice!" The general resisted stamping his foot. "He has lied; he has tried to place his brother in the way of fire, even though it is he himself who should burn!"

Aslan rose, his eyes narrowed. "Do you suggest that I _burn_ the future rulers of Narnia, General?! Nay, I shall not. Edmund has made decisions, and his decisions will have consequences, and have already had consequences, that he never though they would – but these will shape the future. A future I have long foreseen."

The General sighed. "I confess I do not understand your words; nor your actions... but I know of you well enough to trust you, to follow your command. Thus, if you command the King be mute, and the younger be free from his sins, then I suppose it must be so." To his surprise, the Lion chuckled.

"Oerious, you are eloquent, but overtly dramatic all at once. They will _both_ be given their proper justice." He smiled. "Now, say no more of these things. Know only this, and let it comfort you; with the children, hope is returned to our land. The winds are changing, Oerious, and I doubt even Jadis herself could stop them..." with that the Lion left the tent, leaving a confused and irritated Centaur in his wake.

**(a)(a)(a)**

As I kneel here, I cannot help but think I am foolish for doing so. It is raining; pouring, the birds twitter away in their trees of comfort, and the thunderclouds clap above me as if to warn me off for thinking such foolish thoughts. I admit; I would not count myself in the religious throng of people that seem to have filled England. Yet, I do believe there may be some presence... something that unfolds destines. If this Aslan that everyone here speaks of is as he seems, then I suppose he must be that something. I cannot believe that after everything, I am here, doing this thing – but what else can I do? I have turned away every kind face, every person or animal who has attempted to bring comfort to me, and my dreams are filled with the horrors and whispers of the past, of things yet to come.

Letting out a soft, harrowed breath, I bow my head, close my eyes, still my thoughts and block out the noise of the rain, the birds, the thunder around me, and concentrate. It is not hard. The glade I have chosen for this seems almost a natural chapel – so quiet and secluded, it practically screams out its importance, though I know to everyone else it must simply be another glade. I force the thought away, take another breath, and begin.

_Please, if you are there... hear me in my time of need. I have never asked anything of you; not even to keep my father safe in the war that threatens to overthrow all of England – for I know that it is an impossible something to ask. However, I am told that I must run this country that I so loathe – I know I am no King, as they believe me to be. I am nothing, but Jadis' play thing. Please, if there is anyone there, please give me a voice to speak out, give me words to say. I am only one person, and it is really a very little thing to ask of you. I know I have wronged in my past; thus you chose to take my words from me to begin with, but now; now when I can speak out, all I need is my voice to allow me to. There are so many things I need to put right, so many apologies to make; but I cannot make them without words, the words you have taken away, in your righteous decision. Please... please..._

Tears are falling from my eyes, and I hastily blink them back, trembling slightly. "Please..." The word falls from my lips as another clap of thunder sounds, and I almost gasp. Perhaps I have somehow misheard (the thought is almost laughable) but... for a second... "Please" I repeat, and allow a soft smile to cross my lips as the spoken word sounds in the air. Tears begin to fall once more, but this time I do not blink them away. They are tears of gratitude, of disbelief, of... happiness. Yes, for the first time since entering this dreaded place, I feel happy. Relieved... I look up as a thin ray of sunshine begins to stream through the dark clouds, and almost smile at the irony. "Thank you," I breathe into the air, and the wind whistles through the trees in reply.

(a)(a)(a)

As I approach Peter, slightly nervously, I can sense something different about him. That sadness which practically seeped from him has all but gone, though the memory of it clearly still lingers in his eyes. He turns as I approach, a small smile on his face. I smile back, somewhat nervously, and move to his side, clearing my throat. "Peter..." I falter slightly. I confess I'm almost... afraid of him. He is not the brother I've known him to be all my life, but then, who would be? Whatever happened between he and Jadis, it would have changed even the strongest of characters, and I have no right to judge him. But I had never thought that he would act towards Lucy the way he has. Edmund, oh yes, I can understand. But Lucy? They have always been so close, those two. I admit being slightly jealous of their closeness; but then again, being here, I was almost grateful for it, hoping Lucy's everlasting happiness would bring some into her brother's life. But no. He pushed her away, crushed her completely, as completely as I suspect Jadis crushed him. But still, I must try. He is my brother, my best friend; who has always been there for me. When father first left for war, and I was so afraid... Peter stood by me.

"Peter..." I begin again, touching his shoulder as he turns toward me. "I don't know what happened to you, I don't know what happened with the Witch... but I know that whatever it was, none of it was... deserved. You are the most selfless person I know; sometimes it's almost annoying," I admit. "But I know that whatever happened to you was not of your doing. I can't imagine how horrible it must be not to speak or talk... and I cant help but be afraid for you if we're in danger which- by the looks of this place, is going to happen pretty often," I manage a weak smile, before pressing the horn, the horn father Christmas gave me, into his hands. "This is yours now. It was given to me by Father Christmas. He told me that if I blew, then help would come, wherever I was. But something tells me you are in more need of it than I." I take a breath, swallowing.

"Susan," he begins, and my eyes widen.

"Peter!"

(a)(a)(a)

I cannot help but allow a large grin to cross my face as I watch Susan's expression. She looks somewhere between shocked and astounded, and the latter seems to take hold as she lets out something like a shriek, and throws herself at me, laughing almost hysterically. I cannot reproach her for I feel her relief. Although I can't help but tease her, and revel in how good it feels to _speak_.

"Not exactly ladylike, Su," I tease, and she shakes her head, gently ruffling my hair.

"Oh shut up," she grins. "How... when...?" she shakes her head once more, clearly confounded.

"I can honestly say I don't have a clue," I admit, unwilling to admit my earlier private moment. "But, if this Aslan chap is who everyone says he is, I think he might have something to do with it..." I'm almost teasing, but not quite. I've learned now not to question any sort of power or force that rules a land, and clearly there is something at work here in Narnia. "I'm just grateful to be able to talk,"

"You're not going to shut up now, are you?" Susan teases; her eyes bright and dancing. I laugh; grab her by the waist and beginning to tickle her. She squeals, laughing breathlessly as we play, as though we are young once more. I cannot remember when I've felt happier, and from such a simple thing! Simple, yes, but so important.

"Peter Pevensie," A rumbling voice stops us in our playful squabble, and Susan and I both look up, my eyes widen at the sight of the Lion entering the clearing. My throat becomes dry, and I swallow back the nervousness as I stand, lending a hand to Susan, who stands with me, brushing down her gown. "This is not the appropriate behaviour for a future King of Narnia," The Lion warns, though I can almost swear I hear laughter in his voice.

"Aslan, we were just-"Susan starts, but Aslan interrupts.

"Peace, Susan." He assures. "There is nothing to fear; indeed, there is every reason to celebrate."

"Aslan, I don't understand how it happened," I confess, feeling Susan place a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. "I mean, I'm grateful, but..."

The Lion smiles slightly. "There are many things in this land that you may not understand at first, Peter. But know this; everything has a time and a place. Your curse was of the Witch's making; its waning has its own meaning, a meaning which brings me great relief."

I shake my head, his words confusing me. "I don't understand."

"You have no need to understand as of yet," he assures. "Just enjoy your newfound happiness, for happiness is new-come to Narnia."

I nod, biting my lip. "Thank you, Aslan."

The Lion glances somewhere behind him as Oerious appears from the trees, making me wonder just how long he's been there. The thought trails off as Oerious passes the sword I declined earlier to me. I hesitate, and take it, promising myself to apologise to him later. He bows slightly, and retreats. "Peter, kneel." The Lion orders, and I do so, the sword pointing into the ground. Susan's breath stills as she watches, and I hear a soft 'oh' escape her lips. I feel too bewildered by everything to understand what is going on; the way she has clearly understood, so when Aslan's paw gently presses to my shoulder, I jump. The Lion gives a soft smile as I look up at him, clearly not understanding. "Rise; Peter Wolfsbane, Knight of Narnia."

**Author's N: **Okie dokie. ... Peter's now a Knight, and he can speak! See, I haven't got a complete heart of stone. I couldn't bear the thought of Peter being forever mute, and I think that his voice returning around now is actually a good thing! Reviews are always, always welcome, so please do.


	16. Whispers and Forgiveness

**Treachery, Tears and Torture**

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**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to CS Lewis and his estate. **

**Author's N: Two chapters in a day? Golly gosh, I'm going insane. Lets hope the muse continues on. My many thanks to everyone who reviewed, sorry this is a bit of a short chapter – next one will be longer, promise.**

**Chapter Fifteen**

I move towards Lucy and Su's tent, utterly determined to make peace with my younger sister; guilt tripping through me at all I have said and done to disquiet her sweet temperance. She must hate me. She _must_. But Lucy, sweet Lucy, must understand why I did what I did, why I said those words so full of hatred and so full of anger. T'was not anger towards her, but rather towards the woman who had muted me; who's power is now waning, waning! For what other reason would there be for my voice returning? I cannot understand it all, but I dare not question what God – nay, Aslan – has ordained. However, as I reach the tent and open it only to find it empty of either sister, a deep disappointment fills me. Sighing softly, I turn, only to be blocked by the Centaur, Oerious, who looks all but flustered and somewhat apologetic. I move to go past him, when – to my absolute astonishment – he drops to his knees (apparently a somewhat horrendous task for Centaurs) and bows his head.

"High King, I beg your pardon," he begins, his voice low. My eyes widen; did he just call me....? "I had no right to treat you as I have done previously; I had no right to presume I knew your circumstance and the reason for it, and now I understand the truth of things I place my life utterly in your hands. I hope you will accept my service for what it is."

I smile slightly; I cannot help it. Kneeling next to him, I press a hand to his shoulder. "General Oerious," I begin, and he looks up, somewhat startled. Ah; he did not know of my returning voice! He offered his apology with no knowledge of what has happened, and that alone is enough to make me wholly trust him. I see him for who he is; a General that loves his country and wants it safe, a true countryman. "You have no reason to apologise to me. You are simply doing what any good man or being would do," I smile slightly. "However, I would take you up on your offer of alliance; I have few friends here, thanks to... what has conspired... and I would be glad of the friendship you offer,"

He nods, and rises. "I would gladly bring your brother down to the depths of hell if you so commanded, your majesty." He assures; eyes bright with a fire that almost frightens me. I shake my head.

"Nay, Oerious." I pause. "Edmund has made mistakes, but I don't believe he meant direct harm. I don't believe he even understands the consequences his actions had. No one can know ... no one will understand, even if I told them. I would have more enemies than friends, I would shame Edmund, and I refuse to do that. He is family, even if he has hurt me in a way he cannot possibly understand, he still is family," The Centaur shakes his head, awe filling his features.

"You are truly astonishing, your majesty," he says softly. "I do not know many who would allow such things to happen before their eyes and then not wish for revenge."

I shrug. "He is my brother, and Aslan has seen fit to return my voice to me, and I dare not abuse it. I do not wish for revenge, only reconciliation." I pause. "And please, General, just call me Peter?"

He looks almost scandalised. "No title?" He shakes his head. "I cannot... as Aslan ordains you High King so I must call you such."

I sigh softly. "Please, Oerious. Let me just be Peter with you. Indeed, I have yet even to be crowned. If I ever am..." the words slip out without even realising.

He frowns. "I'm sorry?"

I sigh, shaking my head. "It is nothing, Oerious. Nothing but a shadow and a doubt." I pause; manage a smile as I see Lucy returning from some place with two nymphs. "Now, Oerious, I must speak with my sister... I have much damage to repair." He nods and bows slightly to me, and I smile slightly, before moving towards Lucy, gently placing a hand on her shoulder from behind.

She stops, turns to face me, biting her lip. "I didn't mean to anger you," she says softly, and my heart goes out to her. Poor Lucy – I should have guessed. She will not hate me, but herself, which is all but ten times worse. She thinks she has upset me, and I could curse myself for upsetting _her_ so. I shake my head, gently pulling her into my arms, for a hug. She returns the gesture, heartfelt, her own arms going about my waist, tightly as she can, and I have to smile slightly. The smile falters slightly as she begins to cry, and alarm fills me.

"Lucy..." I whisper, holding her close.

"I'm sorry, Peter... I'm so sorry!" she whispers. "If I hadn't found Narnia, if... if ... if I hadn't come back again, if... if... if I'd just let it go, and... And... T.... T... Tumnus... you'd still be... be... talking." She chokes on her tears, moving a hand to wipe across her face as she sniffles slightly. "I'm sorry!" she repeats.

Shaking my head, I crouch so I can meet her eyes, gently tilting her face so her eyes meet mine. "Lu," I say softly, and her eyes widen in the sudden knowledge.

"Oh, oh!" She gasps, and hugs me tightly, arms going about my neck. I laugh, holding her close.

"Lucy, it's alright," I promise, stroking her hair. "I was a beast to you when you were just trying to help... I was angry and upset and feeling useless..."

"It's alright, Peter." She whispers, a small smile on her face as she pulls back to face me. "I suppose Aslan...?"

I shrug. "It's all I can think of. I cannot think how else it could've happened," I admit. "But I'm certainly not going to complain!" I give a soft laugh, relieved beyond measure that Lucy doesn't hate me. I should have known – she's such a sweetheart I doubt she has an ounce of hatred in her. I doubt she even knows the meaning of the word.

"Peter?" A voice makes me look up, and I pause slightly, seeing Edmund there, looking incredibly nervous and guilt ridden. Lucy chews on her lip, looking at me uncertainly, as though afraid of an argument. I sigh softly, and gently pry my sister from my side, standing up.

"Edmund..."

He swallows, kicking at the ground slightly. "Can I... talk to you?" he asks, uncertainly, glancing at Lucy. "Alone?"

I nod, gently ruffling Lucy's hair. "Of course," I glance down at her. "I'll talk to you later?" She nods, hugging me briefly before skipping off, probably to spread the news. I sigh softly, before following Edmund to some unknown place, biting my lip somewhat nervously.

**(a)(a)(a)**

I would rather do this alone, so I am grateful when Peter agrees to follow me. To be honest I'd expect him to spit in my face, if he were any other person. But this is Peter, Peter who knows nothing but honesty, love and pure devotion to his family. I don't think he's ever said a bad word about any one of us. Ever. I'm curious to know what happened between he and Jadis; whether or not he found her beautiful, whether she seduced him as I'm sure she had me. I know there is a great battle that should be fought – will be fought – but ridiculously I cannot help but wish they would spare her. It's obvious that she must have done something truly horrific to Peter, for he came to us mute, but to be honest, when I first understood his inability to speak, I was almost.... gleeful. I don't think I can ever learn to accept that Peter is just ... _perfect_. He is all too good for me to touch him; he has that unattainable light that no one can touch –not even Jadis, with her beautiful darkness. She took his voice, and yet he is gay as love to this day now.

As we reach the forest, I turn to him, and sit down on a log. "What happened with the Queen, Peter?" I ask softly. I realise too late that I have said _Queen_, not _Witch_. Peter's face darkens and for a split second I feel almost afraid of him.

**(a)(a)(a)**

_Queen?!_He still calls her _Queen_?! How... how can he possibly...? Anger is beginning to seep through me and I have to struggle to pull it back. Of course, I should have understood that Edmund is _not_ going to apologise to me. He probably hates me now more than ever. I have to swallow my emotions though, because otherwise I will say something I will regret. "I think you mean _Witch_, Edmund." I say softly. "And I'm not sure what happened with her. I... some of it's all but a blur." It's a lie, but a lie I feel justified in telling. As if I am going to tell him what had happened. I can barely admit it to myself; the parts I remember at any rate, for there are indeed some blank spots in my memory that terrify me and haunt me in my dreams. My mind is buzzing a warning I cannot understand to me, telling me to keep stump; especially to Edmund.

"I had dreams, you know," He says, conversationally. "Dreams of ... you and her," he pauses briefly, and I see a glimmer of something in his eyes, something I cannot define. "Did she seduce you?"

I have had enough; I cannot listen to this. He is practically accusing me of devoting myself to her. I want to scream out to him, I want him to understand the horror of what happened; I want Edmund to totally renounce her as anything but a heretic, I want him to finally realise how _stupid_ he is. I want to make him understand what she is capable of. But I cannot. For if I do, and then everything else will follow. And I cannot cope with that. My breath is coming hard, and I have to concentrate on focusing on something other than him to avoid a full out panic attack as I swallow emotion.

**(a)(a)(a)**

I am not quite sure why I'm behaving like a jealous lover who has realised his wife has slept with someone else. I don't understand why I'm acting as though Peter has done injustice to me, when I know full well that he must have gone through hell. But the anger that was once subtle and almost ignorable now burns through me bright as any flame of injustice. It screams at me to murder him, to defile him. As I watch him struggle to put a lid on his emotions, swallow his words, I spit out some last words, almost shocked myself at the venom in them.

"You're a whore, Peter." I almost laugh at the look of absolute shock on his face as his head snaps up.

"I... what?" He whispers, shaking.

"There is a rumour you know," I continue. It is true... there are _many_ a rumour. "A rumour about you and the White Queen, as some call her. The rumours say you consummated some secret pact. That you are on her side and plan to reinstate her once you are crowned. These rumours say that you are the Whore of Narnia." I confess I don't understand all of what I'm saying, its only words I have heard from others, but its enough to provoke some sort of reaction from him.

He is struggling to breathe, and shakes his head. "I... no..." he splutters out.

I shrug, and stand up. "It is undo-able, Peter. Narnia has dubbed you a whore, and your reputation is all but in smithereens." I smirk, and leave him alone, gasping for air.

**(a)(a)(a)**

He has all but crushed me. Just when I was beginning to hope again, Edmund has all but killed me. _Whore_? I cannot believe it of these people, cannot believe they would defy the word of Aslan Himself, but... Edmund seems so utterly sure of himself. He seems almost... cruel. Cruel in a way that I have only ever seen in one other person. Oh heavens, is this the fight I have to fight? Do I truly have the whole of Narnia against me in this battle? Perhaps it would have been better if Jadis had... – no. I cannot think like that. If I do, then she wins. And I will _not_ allow that.

And yet.... –

My musings are ceased as Oerious appears from the trees, out of breath, features lined with worry. "Highness, the Witch is here." He splutters, and my mind goes numb.

**Author's N: Review, review! Please review!**


	17. The Whore of Narnia

**Treachery, Tears and Torture**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing... unfortunately. Damn it. CS Lewis, his estate, and his genius mind own it all.**

**Author's N: My many, many thanks (and chocolate: P) to everyone who reviewed. You guys are awesomeness personified; I salute you!**

**Chapter Sixteen**

My mind freezes as I stare at the Centaur, swallowing back my fear. _She_ is here...? That Witch who has taken everything from me, now is here and now, most likely, wants to demand more is... _here_? Surely though, Aslan will protect me against her. Surely he can see that I have no desire to be with her, after... what has... happened. Surely... surely...

Oerious seems to sense my doubt and moves to my side, pressing a hand to my shoulder. "Steady, my King. She'll not harm you with the Lion's grace at your side." He promises, and I relax a fraction, trying to believe his words. "Above all remember I am loyal to you; I shall not let her harm you either." This has me slightly more reassured, I admit. I cannot help it. Aslan may have returned my voice; or some other force here, but Oerious is the one who will openly admit his loyalties, who has tried to stand by my side consistently. I know I have Susan and Lucy, but to have a Narnian on my side is somewhat a rarity; especially one who seems so well versed in the Narnian ways.

I swallow, square my shoulders slightly. "Then I am not afraid," I say softly, my voice wavering slightly. The General raises an eyebrow, but does not say anything; which I am grateful for. He must doubt my strength, after everything, but he does not say so aloud, and that is as good as loyalty as I need or deserve. "Is She here now?"

The Centaur nods, his face grim. "Aye, her kinsmen are kicking up a royal stink with our people; they claim she is the only Queen."

"The White Queen," I murmur, remembering Edmund's earlier words. The Centaur glances as me.

"Aye. But how would you know such a term?" he asks.

I sigh. "Edmund and I... we talked earlier, and it... seems you were right to judge him." It is all I will say on the matter, and as we make our way to where I presume the Witch is waiting for us, Oerious does not feel the need to question me any longer, for which I am most grateful. Something tells me he will be a formidable ally in the future ruling of this country – a thought that still causes me to feel slightly sick with fear.

**(a)(a)(a)**

We are all waiting, waiting for Peter and Oerious to return from wherever they have been, and I must admit I'm almost...excited and gleeful to see what happens. The Queen – beautiful as ever, even in her anger and righteousness – stands proudly, her chariot nearby, with her minions. She glances my way, and I feel privileged; ridiculously, I know, but still there it is. She is the only one who has shown me any sense of kindness since father left for the war; I cannot believe she is all evil, as Peter and others seem to think. I believe she is simply... misled.

This is my feeling, and blow Peter and whoever else stands against me! I can feel the jealousy rise within me as I see him approach. It is stupid, I know, for he cannot mean to her what I have meant to her. After all, _she_ said I would be prince, did she not? Perhaps even King? With Peter as my slave! Ah, I would love that. Ordering him about all day.

Peter arrives (finally!), and the place goes quiet as Aslan gracefully appears from his tent, his footsteps calm and heavy.

**(a)(a)(a)**

She is as terrifying and wretched as she ever was. As I move to the crowd that has gathered, I swallow, and nod my thanks to Oerious before watching slightly distant from the others, almost afraid to go amongst this throng of animals that so despise me. I see Edmund, Susan and Lucy together; huddled, and for a moment I've never felt so alone. Jadis steps down from her chariot – that wretched dwarf still following her trail (I wonder briefly if he ever does anything else), and moves forward, her eyes fixed on the Lion who stands, calm and true, near his own tent, the flickering of his tail the only sign of his aggravation.

"You have a traitor amongst you... Aslan," she declares, and my heart plummets.

The Lion takes a second, then; "His offence was not against _you_." He says softly, firmly, and I hear several traitorous Narnians almost laugh in defiance of his words. Of course; I should have known. They all believe she wishes for me, but I have a horrid feeling (and by the way Aslan talks I am right) that she is speaking of my brother. Why she would, I have no idea. Perhaps she wants to do to him what she has to me.

"Have you forgotten the rules upon which Narnia was written?" She challenges, her eyes sparking fire.

"Do not site the deep magic to _me_, Witch." He growls, and for a moment I am almost afraid; afraid of them both, and how this might end. They are both too terrible and too strong for either to back down, surely. "I was there when it was written."

He has apparently said exactly what Jadis wanted to hear. She smirks slightly. "Then you'll remember well that every traitor belongs to me. His blood is my property."

_No._ My mind screams, despite all our arguments, and I move forward to defend Edmund; suddenly utterly terrified for him, and guiltily remembering my promise to our mother; knowing if I do not stand for him then I will have failed her, and that I cannot bear. "You shan't take him," Lucy bursts out, and I raise an eyebrow, my heart swelling with love for her. The Witch laughs, cruelly, and I see my youngest sister shrink into Susan.

"Do you _really_ think that you can stop me... little Princess?" She asks; sneering the word. "But perhaps you are right. Perhaps... the Narnians should decide who I take..." her attitude has changed completely; she is now the seductress, weaving her spell about these people, and it is working – good God, it is working. I am suddenly very, very afraid.

"Take your whore! Take the blond Prince!" Several chant out, and my heart drops several feet into my very shoes. I swallow, and close my eyes briefly as their heads turn to face me. For a moment I almost hate Edmund as I see him among them, his eyes cold and calculating.

Jadis smiles. "Come... mine own." She smirks, extends a pale hand to me. I cannot accept it; and simply try to step back, but a wolf stands behind me, and growls.

"Damn you, you coward," he spits at me. "You dare defy Aslan?"

"I cannot go back there..." I whisper, terrified. "I cannot go back there... not again."

"Peter!" I hear Susan cry out for me as two minotaur's suddenly appear by my side, and literally force me through the crowd. "No, please! He is not to blame!" She cries out, but the crowd are against them. I feel utterly betrayed and defeated. Somewhere in the midst I hear little Hope's voice crying out my name, and feel sickened that I have not been able to make my peace with her.

"He has done nothing wrong!!" Her voice squeaks out, but the Narnians in their rage ignore her utterly, and I force a deep breath. If this is how things are to be, then so be it. Aslan is certainly not speaking against his people, and he is letting _her_ take me. I chance a glance at him; he looks almost... defeated. But no; Aslan cannot be defeated, surely? If he is, then everything is lost. I may as well have no hope in living much longer, for I doubt the Witch will keep me alive forever. Susan and Lucy are almost lost beneath the animals, and I find myself fearing for their safety.

"Oerious?!" I suddenly yell out above the roars, squeaks, and other animal noises. The Centaur's head comes up; he is among the throng, fighting against them to get to me. "Oerious, forget me! Look after my sisters; keep them safe!" he meets my eyes by chance, and nods, his eyes speaking their promise. I feel I little safe in that, if nothing else.

"SILENCE," The Witch shrieks out, and the place goes deadly quiet, strange in the afore upheaval. She turns to Aslan with a half smile, one that I know. She has what she wants, and she is triumphant. "Do you have anything you wish to add, Aslan?"

He shakes his head. "The People have chosen," he speaks simply, and moves to renter his tent.

"Please..." I whisper, but no one hears me. Two dwarves make quick work of my hands and feet, and soon I am tied down to the thing. I swallow back fear; the last place I wish to return is the dark dungeon where she once placed me. Jadis laughs, cruelly, and glances my way before moving to Edmund, who looks a little stunned.

Perhaps this is not what he imagined would happen.

"Thank you, Edmund," she says softly. "You have given me what I need, and lost what Narnia needs, all in one fell blow."

**(a)(a)(a)**

As I watch Peter get almost dragged away by the White Queen – I mean,... _Witch_, and her people, I cannot help but fear for her words. A slow unease is creeping through me – the sense of having done something terribly, unchangeably wrong.

As my sisters both give me a look of equal disgust, I feel the uncertainty grow – especially when I see the Lion glance my way as he moves back to his tent, his gaze full of understanding, condemning, and utter disbelief.

I fear perhaps I may not have done the smartest thing.

**Author's N: Hmm... lil bit understated there, Edmund? I'm so sorry its a short chapter, I know I promised longer, but it sort of fell a bit flat, this seemed like the natural ending (for the chapter! Not the fic!). Reviews, as always, are love.**


	18. Hijo De La Luna

**Treachery, Tears and Torture**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. CS Lewis and his Estate are the correct owners of all**

**Author's N: My many, many thanks to everyone who reviewed! Yes, Edmund deserves a good slap or kick, though I'd prefer none of you did that QUITE yet. **

**Chapter Seventeen**

Cold, blue light. Pulsing and terrifying all at once. There is nothing I can do here; nothing. I have been here before, and I am condemned now to be here again. I am nothing and nothing is exactly what I am. No one shall know me, or know of me. I am falling, falling again so far. A voice, a word, a thought – it is nothing, if you are nothing.

As I am.

As I always will be.

Flashes before my eyes; golden, bright – screaming, screaming. One person, then two, a much winey voice joins. I recognise both, the second without knowing, without thinking, without understanding. The first; the first is She. Her minions crowd around her – her and her bright lights.

She meets my eyes from where I am, and smiles, a cold, cruel smile.

"It has begun," she hisses through her teeth.

The echoing of an infant's cry is all I hear until my world settles into darkness once more.

**TO BE CONTINUED....**

Author's N: Yes, indeed I have ended this fic here! But don't worry, it will be continued in the sequel _By the Grace of the Gods_, which I'm working on at the moment, and should hopefully be uploaded soon. As always, dear readers, please review.


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